


You're My Dad (Boogie Woogie Woogie)

by MoonshineEvelyn



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Babyfic, Daddy!Sandor, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, POV Multiple, Protective Sandor Clegane, Romantic Fluff, Sandor works in finance, Sansa is a teacher, Slow Burn, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Unplanned Pregnancy, must protect, stranger is precious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-02-26 18:12:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 71,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18722305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonshineEvelyn/pseuds/MoonshineEvelyn
Summary: Sandor Clegane's life was mundane and he liked it that way. Sansa Stark blew it to pieces.A one night stand between our gullible characters led to an unplanned pregnancy.Sansa has always wanted children and Sandor has always run away from those hellions.What are they going to do about this mini Stark-Clegane bean growing in Sansa's womb?





	1. Chapter one: Sandor

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone. 
> 
> Sandor is 34. Sansa is 26.  
> In my mind, Sandor looks like the Turkish actor Can Yaman (droooools) and Sansa looks like the American actress Grace Holley, but with blue eyes. Stranger is a Cane Corso. 
> 
> The idea for his fic popped up suddenly, even though there's another one I was working on. I am really excited about this for some reason, so here it is. 
> 
> Hope you guys like it.

“Hey mutt! You coming?”  
  
Sandor looked up from his laptop screen. Tormund stood at the door with his shit face grin. His teeth out like he was on some toothpaste commercial. Sandor rolled his eyes. Of all the colleagues he could have gotten, why did he work with the worst the world had to offer?  
  
“Yeah. You guys go ahead. I have two emails to reply and then I’ll come over”  
  
“Okay. Don’t bail on us though. I will come to your apartment and drag you over” the ginger cunt chuckled and walked away with a skip in his step.  
  
Sandor shook his head in exasperation and focused back on his work. Being a Chief Finance Officer for Westerlands Incorporated entailed a lot of responsibilities. Sandor could not find it in himself to complain though. He understood numbers and business better than anyone around. He had spent years studying it and even more working under jerk bosses in underpaid jobs. At 30, he had finally struck his luck as Assistant Financial Operator and in four years, found himself heading the division. The job paid well. Well enough for him to own a sprawling apartment, a luxurious car and ridiculously extravagant toys for his dog. He spent hours in his office, came before everyone and left after everyone. He devoted all his waking hours to the job on the weekdays. Weekends, though, were an entirely different story.  
  
Friday evening was when he let his guard down. He left his office at 7, after finishing all the work for the week and preparing notes for the next. He would leave little reminders of the tasks that he had to do come Monday. He would hand over a file of his entire week’s work detail to his assistant, Podrick.  
  
And then, he would bask in the glory of two days of negligence and freedom.  
  
Some weekends, he would take time for himself. He would spend hours at the gym. He would go running on the beach. He would even go hiking occasionally. Once he had gone fishing. It had been a boring experience and he had almost wanted to drown himself but he made it through and ended up buying a store brought fish at the end of the day.  
  
Other times, he would get wasted. He would let off steam with his buddies and spend the next two days nursing hangovers. No regrets though. He worked hard and deserved a break.  
  
Once in a while, he would find some woman to warm his bed for the night.  
  
He wasn’t meant for a committed relationship. Even if he worked out time for a lady love, the said lady love would probably not want to wake up to his fucked up face every morning.  
  
He usually picked up women at the bar, boned them at home and asked them to leave immediately after. He had plenty of experience of women waking up sober on his bed and shrieking of horror when they realized they’d slept with a monster.  
  
So yeah, that was his life.  
  
After having finished his work, Sandor went through the ritual of making tabs of the work he would have to do the next week. He let four post-its on his table, reminding him of the work next week. He handed a folder to Podrick on the way out, barely registered the have a good weekend the boy said and went to the bar down the alley to meet his co-workers.  
  
…………..  
  
Sandor woke up with a jerk.  
  
He held his head in his hand and bought his knees closer to his body to rest his hands on. He could feel a light ache form above his brows.  
  
He had a good time the previous night. Tormund, Sandor, Bronn and Beric had consumed quite a bit of alcohol. Beric and Tormund had left early but Bronn and Sandor had stayed and continued drinking. Bronn had soon found someone to take home and Sandor had sat alone for a while. He had noticed some girl sitting down at the bar alone. He had approached her. Worst case, she would yell at him and ask him to go away. But she did no such thing. Instead, she had flirted with Sandor. An hour in and they caught a cab to Sandor’s, pawing at each other through the whole ride. Sandor had carried her upstairs, to his bedroom and had fucked her good. After catching his breath, he had gone to the toilet to clean up and when he came back, he had found the woman dressing up to leave. Good on her. Sandor liked having the bed to himself. He had then fallen on the bed and dozed off.  
  
He heard his buzzer go off.  
  
Was that what had woken him up?  
  
He lifted himself off the bed and padded to the front door in his underwear. Stranger, his dog, bounded over to him ecstatically, excited that his master was finally awake.  
  
Sandor patted his dog on the head and answered the buzzer.  
  
“Yeah?” he asked groggily.  
  
“Hello, Mr Clegane?” a timid voice replied.  
  
“What d’ya want?”  
  
“Mr Clegane, I had met you a few weeks ago. Three weeks ago, to be exact. We had met at the Burlington Bar on the corner of Everest Street. I was wearing a red halter top with blue jeans.”  
  
Sandor had no recollection. What even was a halter top? How was he supposed to remember what a woman wore three weeks ago?  
  
After few moments of silence, the voice continued. “I have red hair, waist length, blue eyes. Can you remember, Mr Clegane?”  
  
Sandor remembered a blue eyed, red haired beauty he had met at the bar a few weeks ago. But he did not remember her clearly.  
  
“What do you want, woman?”  
  
“Mr Clegane, I would appreciate you letting me in. I would prefer to talk to you face to face. Its important”  
  
Sandor huffed. A man couldn’t ask for peace, apparently.  
  
“Come on up. This better be good.” He said as he pressed the button for letting the woman into the building.  
  
“No promises, Mr Clegane.”  
  
With his guest arriving, Sandor decided to throw some clothes on. He walked into his closet and chose sweats and a T shirt. He brushed his teeth in a hurry and applied some deodorant. His face, he could do nothing about but he ran a hand through his hair.  
  
The doorbell rang and Stranger barked excitedly at the guest on the other side of the door. Sandor pushed his dumb dog aside with his leg and opened the door a little.  
  
On the other side stood a beautiful woman. Under different circumstances, he would have welcomed her presence. But he was hungover and this sudden intrusion was unwelcome.  
  
“What do you want?”  
  
She scowled at his tone but continued, “Mr Clegane, can we please talk inside the apartment?”  
  
Sandor huffed and opened the door. The lady walked in and was jumped upon by Stranger. That big dumb dog was going to knock the lithe woman over.  
  
“Calm down, you stupid dog”  
  
“That is no way of speaking to your dog” the woman chastised.  
  
The galls of this lady! Mothering him in his own house. The galls!  
  
“Lady, what do you want? Why have you come to meet me?”  
  
“Um, the thing is…”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Well, the thing is”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“The thing is”  
  
“WHAT IS THE THING, WOMAN?” He bellowed at her.  
  
“Baby. The thing. Baby. The thing is the baby. Yours. Pregnant” the woman blurted.  
  
“The fuck?”  
  
“I am pregnant. With your baby. That’s the thing”  
  
Silence.  
  
The fuck?  
  
Ba…what?  
  
His body reacted before his mind could and Sandor found himself running to the kitchen. He pulled the trash can from the corner and threw all the contents of his stomach into it.  
  
Oy vey.


	2. Chapter two: Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pregnancy from Sansa's POV and a little backstory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was surprisingly easy to write considering I hate children and Sansa loves them. But you gotta do, what you gotta do. 
> 
> Here goes.

Sansa had spent three months crying.  
  
Stupid Harrold with his stupid face had broken her heart.  
  
When they had started dating, everything had been perfect. Sansa was browsing through a local bookstore when he had come up to her. He had said something about checking some books out and his sly smile and toothy grin had won her heart. Twelve year old Sansa had dreamt of meeting her The One in a library, whispering sweet nothings in a room smelling of old books and fairy tales. They had gone on several dates and had started dating as an official couple after two months of dating. On their fourth month, they had kissed under a cherry blossom tree on a sunny spring morning and had confessed their love for each other. At six months, they were living together. And that, was that.  
  
They had been living together for two years. Sansa expected The Question to pop out anytime. She waited for her birthday, his birthday, anniversary, anniversary of their first kiss, anniversary of their first time, anniversary of their moving in together, sevenmas, new year, everything. Sometimes she got excited on a normal Sunday, expecting him to drop The Question. She did everything she could. She showed him pictures of rings sometimes, commented on celebrity choice of wedding wear, commented on the newest bridal trend. She even dragged him to her friend’s weddings. Nothing worked.  
  
There was the added pressure of her mother pestering her almost every weekend. Her mother wanted to know when her daughter would be married.  
  
“26 is so old Sansa, my darling. I had you when I was 25”  
  
Sansa wanted to get married. More honestly, she wanted to become a mother.  
  
When she was young, she would treat all and every one of her toys as her child. She would feed her dollies, bathe them, dress them, take them to school, cook for them and put them to sleep. Her childhood obsession of mothering had evolved into her becoming a kindergarten teacher. She had a bachelors in Science and had a masters in early childcare and education. She worked in Westview School. She taught first graders. Her heart would melt every day at her job as she listened to those cute little pumpkins talk their baby talk. She loved her students with all her being. Sure, she was underpaid and some kids raised hell but it was all worth it. When she got warm, cuddly hugs from her students at the end of the day, it erased all her grievances. But then she’d see mothers and fathers waiting for their kids, she’d see the kids run to their parents, she’d see the parents lift the kid in the air and would feel a void in her heart.  
  
God, Sansa wanted a baby.  
  
If only her stupid boyfriend would propose, marry her and do the deed.  
  
Sansa had run out of patience and had finally relented and spoken to him. Turns out, he didn’t “believe” they were serious enough to be married.  
  
“I am too young to be tethered down by a family, babe”  
  
Sansa had stared at him in disbelief and had walked out with her belongings the next day.  
  
It didn’t help to find out that he had cheated on Sansa multiple times during their relationship. It hadn’t helped that she had to live with her parents, with her mother trying to constantly set her up with someone.  
  
She had enough of her mother asking her to reproduce ASAP and had decided to move into Arya’s.  
  
Arya had tolerated her depressed ass for three months before declaring, “Enough is enough, we are getting shit faced drunk and you’re going to stop that pussy ass whining of yours”.  
  
Her sister’s method, though unorthodox, had helped. Sansa had loosened a little. She felt a little better. She made friends with some of Arya’s friends. The distraction worked and the alcohol certainly helped.  
  
It was during one such escapade that she met the human mountain named Sandor. She had been slightly tipsy and his breadth had beckoned her. She had stared at his massive shoulders wondering if they’d be able to do one of the bench press thingies with her. He was so tall and massive and her mind had wondered to the proportions of his nether regions. Sansa had not experienced an orgasm in a while. A guy like him must be able to plow a woman to another dimension.  
  
She had wandered over to him. A little bit of flirting here and there and he asked “Do you want to come over to mine”.  
  
“Don’t mind if I do” she had replied, offering an arm to the man.  
  
He had taken her to his apartment. She remembered him asking her several times if she was sure. He even gave her water to drink and let her sober a little before agreeing to do more.  
  
She had felt irritated. She wanted to have some mind blowing sex. All this delay was not helping.  
  
Once sobered up, she had placed her palm on his rough cheek, barely registering the gasp and said “plow me down, good sir”.  
  
And Lord Almighty, did he plow.  
  
……………

When she realized she might be pregnant, she had fainted. Arya found her lying on the kitchen floor. After gaining consciousness and crying for an hour or two, she finally told Arya her suspicion. After an at home pregnancy test and a visit to the doctor, two days later, Sansa was still in shock.  
  
She wanted this all her life. But she didn’t want it this way. She wanted a boyfriend, a fiancée, a husband and then a kid, or two. She had skipped all the precursory requirements and become pregnant at the first go. She had been angry. At herself, for most part. She should have taken a pill the next morning. The guy wore a condom, she was sure of that. But she should have taken contraceptive. She had been upset. This was the worst time this could have happened. She couldn’t possibly raise a child alone. It was financially not possible for her to raise the kid all on her own. She had been scared. If her parents found out, she would never hear the end of it. Her mother would raise hell for an unplanned, out of wedlock pregnancy. She would not be able to look at her father with shame. She was their golden child. How could she screw this up? At some point, she had even laughed. To have wanted something all your life and have fate drop it at your doorstep when you didn’t ask for it was hilarious.  
  
After a few days, she decided to go speak to the man.  
  
The baby-father.  
  
The man with invincible sperm that could be stopped by no condom.  
  
She thanked modern technology for helping her reach the man’s house. The night of the deed, she had booked an Uber from his place to hers. She had his address on her ‘previous trips’ list.  
  
Her hands shook as she pressed the buzzer on a Saturday morning.  
  
…………..

She stood lamely while the man threw up.  
  
Wasn’t she the pregnant one? Why was he throwing up? She sighed.  
  
He looked up at her from his crouched position. She registered his face with an observation she didn’t that night. His face wasn’t ugly. He had a strong, sharp nose, beautiful, stormy grey eyes, a good set of puffy, kissable lips and a prominent jawline. Yes, his scars were horrifying to look at but they suited his persona. He looked like a big meanie ready to beat someone up.  
  
He cleared his throat. “Uh, have a seat. I will be back” he said and disappeared into the house.  
  
She looked around. His apartment was nice, very nice. He had a spacious living room, an open kitchen and a balcony that overlooked a sprawling garden below. The fact that he lived on the fifteenth floor gave his apartment a glorious view. The furniture was minimal, expensive and tasteful. There were no personal touches or pictures anywhere.  
  
She sat on the couch and felt a wet nose touch her hand. She looked into the big beautiful eyes of the dog in front of her.  
  
She nuzzled his ear. “Hey boy. What’s your name?” she asked, looking for a tag. “Stranger? Are you Stranger?” she asked, rubbing his ears affectionately. Stranger rolled his tongue out and woofed softly at her. Sansa smiled and cuddled his head to hers.  
  
“Um so” she heard Sandor emerge from the hallway. She turned towards him. He must have washed his face, judging from the wet collar of his shirt. He walked towards her and stood near the couch.  
  
“How are you sure the baby is mine?”  
  
“Well, I hadn’t slept with anyone for a long time before you and I didn’t have sex with anyone after you. The doctor said it must be three weeks and that means its yours.”  
  
“And I am supposed to take your word for it?”  
  
Sansa sighed.  
  
“Look, I know you didn’t expect this.” She saw him open his mouth to make some snarky comment, probably and spoke over his attempt to do so. “I didn’t see this coming too. But I have always wanted a child. But I am young and cannot afford to care for a child on my own. I wanted to come and talk to you before I made a decision. If you want, you can choose not to take any part in this whatsoever. If you want, you can have a minimal role. I don’t want to keep the kid if I end up being the only one who takes care of them. So if you want in, I need your word that you will contribute financially. If you choose not to, I will explore all my options but there’s a good chance I will terminate the pregnancy”  
  
She had practiced this in front of the mirror several times. She was confident in what she was saying. Now she sat and waited for him to process it all. She kept her calm by petting the dog who sat loyally at her feet.  
  
The man rubbed his face with his hands. He sat down on the couch next to him.  
  
“Look Lady..”  
  
“Sansa”, she supplied.  
  
He rolled his eyes. “Look Sansa. I hate kids. I am not the fatherly type. I am not responsible enough for myself. Put a tiny human into the mix and it’s a recipe for a disaster. Coupled with that some sad bastard inheriting my genes and damn, I already feel bad for the kid”  
  
Sansa winced at his words. ‘Bastard’. God, she never wanted her kid or any kid to be treated like an unwanted scrap, like her brother had been treated his whole life.  
  
“I know it’s a lot Mr Clegane. But I have always wanted this. I love children. I am a kindergarten teacher. I always wanted a family. It is just that with my salary, I won’t be able to raise the child. I cannot afford day care and my job is the only source of income. I don’t want to raise a kid without a solid plan in place.”  
  
“So you just want money for the kid?”  
  
“Ideally, I would ask for you to be there in greater capacity. I will accept any amount of involvement you would want to have in the child’s life. But I cannot possibly ask you for anything. I am just informing you that I will not raise this child alone and before I go for a permanent solution, it is my obligation to inform you of my plans.”  
  
She saw the man rub his palms on his sweat.  
  
“I did not see this coming.” He murmured.  
  
She smiled at him.  
  
“Look, lady. The fact still remains that all I have here are your words. You could be playing me, for all I know.”  
  
“Mr Clegane, I can assure you, I’m not..”  
  
“Aye woman. Yer not lying. I get it.”  
  
She raised a brow at his accent.  
  
“I need some time to think about this. I don’t usually plan replies for unplanned pregnancies. Give me some time”  
  
She nodded. She understood he needed some time. She had a week to think on it. He deserved some time too.  
  
“Sure Mr Clegane. I will leave my phone number and email ID on the table. Please reach out to me when you have a decision ready. Please remember I have only a few weeks in hand”  
  
She knew he was lost in thought so she got up gathered her things. Stranger whined at her departure. She bent to kiss him on the head. She found a notepad sitting on the counter and wrote her number and email ID on it with her full name and muttered a quiet “Goodbye Mr Clegane, Bye Stranger” and left the apartment.  
  
All she heard from behind the door was a little woof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First things first, yes I know. Sandor seems a little ooc. I am trying to address that in the next chapter. He is still a grumpy man, just with slightly less anger. Hopefully I will be able to explain this better in the next chapter. 
> 
> On that note, I am struggling a little with the next chapter. I am trying to write multiple versions and selecting the one that I think makes sense. It might take a little time, so sorry in advance for the delay. 
> 
> I do not ship the show Sandor with the show Sansa but I liked their scene in the previous episode. What did you guys make of the scene?
> 
> Love,  
> Shee  
> x


	3. Chapter Three: Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor has a decision to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in my Middle Eastern Politics class. I am an awful student haha

Sandor sat there for what seemed like ages.

At some point, Stranger got worried that his master had seen Medusa. Sandor sat there with a blank look on his face, seemingly staring at nothing.

A baby.

Father

Parenthood.

Diapers.

Wailing

Crying

Pooping

Fatherhood.

Children.

Innocence.

_Eleanor._

Sandor shook his head. He didn’t want to think about her right now.

He dug around in his pocket for his phone.

“Hello” a voice answered after a few rings.

“Where are you? I need to meet you. It’s important”

…………

 

“So, what is it?” Elder Brother asked after placing a cup of coffee in front of Sandor. They were sitting in the patio overlooking the backyard of the house. There wasn’t much to the backyard when it came to gardening skills. Just some green grass and flowers here and there.

Sandor looked up at his mentor. Elder Brother had been his Captain when Sandor had joined the army at 18. Sandor had thought that the army and the war would make a man out of him, give him purpose. All it did was tire him. At some point, he began losing track of who he was fighting and for what cause. He had confided in his Captain about his dilemma and the man had advised Sandor to look for new opportunities.

When Sandor had been practically dying at the old, underpaying, gruelling job of his, he had come to vent to the now retired Captain. The Elder Brother (the army nickname seem to have stuck) put him in touch with an old friend of his who worked at Westerlands Incorporated. The job had given a new drive to Sandor. He finally found something he liked doing.

The Elder Brother had also become his confidante. After retiring, he and Sandor had continued meeting. They had moved beyond the confines of their formal relationship. Sandor had opened up about his family to Brother and he had guided him through the pain of his childhood.

“You were not safe as a child, Sandor. But you are now. Let the pain go. Stop building walls around you. They are gone, and they can’t hurt you anymore.” He would remind Sandor every time the man tried to speak with a harsh tone or began becoming violent. He had encouraged Sandor to pursue boxing to cope with his anger. The sport had helped the man greatly. In fact, most of what Brother suggested had helped Sandor become a better man.

If only someone could help him cope with the loss of El.

Sandor cleared his throat.

“There’s this woman. Someone I slept with three weeks ago.” Sandor paused. The Brother looked at him expectantly.

Could the old man not figure out where this was going? The two stared at each other for a while.

“Well? Go on?”

So the old man was going to make him say it.

“Well, this woman came in today morning to talk to me” Sandor explained.

The Brother still looked at him. Why was he making him say it?

“She’s pregnant. With a baby. My baby” Sandor explained.

“Well, that must have been quite a shock”

“Fuck yes it was. Put me in cardiac arrest almost” Sandor said and sipped his coffee.

“What are you planning to do?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I came to you.”

“Sandor, how can I possibly help you?”

“I don’t know.” He sighed and buried his face in his hand.

“Tell me what you do know, Sandor”. The Brother moved closer and placed his hand on Sandor’s shoulder and squeezed his shoulder lightly.

“I don’t think I am meant for raising a child. I wasn’t raised in a good home, you know that. I don’t want to do anything and end up hurting another kid. I would rather not have kids than have one and end up abusing them. But she seems like she really wants the kid but just can’t afford to raise one on her own. I understand her problem. I have more than enough money to afford to raise five kids, multiple tuition fees and all. But I don’t know how far I am comfortable with being a bank for this woman.”

“You won’t be a bank for her. You can make sure that only the child has access to your finance. You can ensure this legally.”

“I guess” Sandor murmured.

“It’s a lot to think about. It’s a child. Take time and make your decision.”

The Brother advised gently. Sandor nodded. Silence ensued and the Brother understood that Sandor should be left in his own thought. They had lunch together and Sandor left soon after, a crease adorning his forehead the whole time.

……………

 

Sandor walked the gravely path.

After coming home from the Brother’s, Sandor sat at home for approximately fifteen minutes before grabbing his keys and walking out again. He got into the car and drove. It’s almost as if on a subconscious level, he knew where he wanted to drive.

The oak tree stood high and mighty, its branches reaching out to the sky. The leaves were glowing with life and the gentle sway of the smaller branches made it seem like the tree was swaying to some music that the wind was secretly whispering to the bark. Sandor fell to his knee in front of the tree where a small “E” was carved on the bark. He lifted his hand and brushed his fingers across the carving.

He shifted closer and touched his forehead to the tree.

“I miss you, El” He whispered.

He closed his eyes and the tears fell through his lashes.

The house was uprooted years ago. Sandor saw to that. He incinerated everything that was left of the damned place and sold the property at dirt cheap price to a poor family. His only condition was that the tree be preserved and watered regularly.

He came to visit her only once a year, on her birthday. Other than that, he avoided coming here. Every time that he did, he would go home and take days to recuperate. It’s almost as if his heart became heavier every time he visited her.

She reminded him of everything he couldn’t do for her.

He couldn’t protect her. He couldn’t be there for her. He couldn’t save her. He had failed her. 

Sandor was her knight in shining armor and he couldn't shield her. 

He would have given his life to keep her alive.

He was six himself, just scarred and she was three year older than him. Bright onyx eyes and a smile that never fell from her face. She was the light of his life and with her gone, there was only darkness.

“I don’t know what to do. Help me El” He whispered.

How pathetic was he? Asking a tree for advice? A breeze caressed his face.

His eyes opened and he looked up and saw the “E” carved in his boyish handwriting.

He couldn’t protect her. He couldn’t save her.

But you can be damn well be sure that he would do everything in his power to protect his child.

………

 

“Hello? Miss Stark. This is Sandor Clegane. Can we meet sometime this week and talk?”

He waited for a response from the other side.

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

Had called a wrong number? She wrote her number herself. She couldn’t have possibly written her own phone number wrong. Right?

“Hello? Miss Stark, can you hear me?”

He heard a sniff. “Yes”, the voice sounded like it was raw from crying.

“Miss Stark? Are you alright?”

What was going on?

“Miss Stark? Are you in danger? Are you okay?”

A sob wracked through the earpiece of the phone.

“Damn it woman, answer me. Are you safe? Where are you? Are you alone? Give me an address.”

“13, Easton Street” the voice answered between sobs and hiccups.

He ran down 15 flights of stairs and bounded across the lobby to the garage. Hitting the ignition key, he zoomed past other cars like a maniac. Damn the traffic regulations, he had enough to pay for thousands of speeding tickets if it meant protecting what was his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happens to Sansa? 
> 
> Stay tuned to find out ;)


	4. Chapter Four: Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out the reason for that tear induced phone call.

She sat down with a sigh.  
  
There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?  
  
Sure, the man had been shocked. But she couldn’t blame him for that. She was shocked too when she found out.  
  
His reaction was completely normal, given that they had not planned on it, or been in a relationship. He didn’t even come across as someone who wanted kids. She couldn’t blame him for being shocked that a one night stand would potentially alter his life.  
  
But, what if he declined?  
  
What if he decided he didn’t want anything to do with the baby?  
  
Sansa knew she couldn’t raise a child on her own. Sure, her father ran a business but there were six of them who would inherit that money. She knew her father’s business was a cooperative brand. That her father was not the sole owner of the company. He just managed it at the highest position. A Chief Operating Officer, if you will. He was rich but not rich enough to fund a child from diapers till a degree that would, in twenty years, cost a million and half. Moreover, Bran’s care required a lot of money and Rickon was still growing. She was not the sole person who her parents were responsible for.  
  
She earned fifty thousand dragons from her job. Annually. She barely made enough to save a few hundred a month. She didn’t make enough for a baby. Unless she switched jobs or miraculously happened upon a cave filled with treasure, she couldn’t possibly afford tuition for her kid.  
  
Without the man, she could not do this.  
  
But would she abort?  
  
Her hands moved on their own volition to her belly.  
  
It was still flat, as expected. But there was a firmness to it. It was different.  
  
Sansa smiled. When she was young, she’d stuff her shirt with cloth, pretending to be pregnant. She would arch her back and walk, as if waddling. Now, she had a little baby growing inside her. She wasn’t big, not yet. But this was just as exciting. Even now, sitting here, the baby in her was growing organs. It was already a person to her. Her baby.  
  
Tears came unbidden.  
  
She had always wanted this. She could do it.  
  
She would meet her parents tomorrow and talk to them. She could figure something out.  
  
…………  
  
She drove up to her parents, her heart in her throat.  
  
“Sansa, my darling, come in” her mother greeted once Sansa knocked on the door. She kissed Sansa on the cheek and ushered her in.  
  
“Hello, mother. Is dad home?”  
  
“Of course he is. He and I were just playing card in the living room. He will try to convince you otherwise, but he is losing” her mother laughed as the women walked into the home.  
  
Being here made Sansa feel safe. In weather like this, the living room was lit by the fireplace. The brown and burly decoration of the room made it seem like some modern cave that you could live in. The whole décor was cosy. Her parents were sitting on a chaise lounge with blankets thrown across their laps.  
“Sansa” her father said and threw the blanket away and got up to hug her. Enveloped in his warmth, Sansa closed her eyes. He was her protector, the chaser of insects from her room, when she was young and the man who punched Harold for cheating on her when he ran into the man at an event. He was her saviour, always had been.  
  
“Dad” Sansa sighed. She was home. She was fine.  
  
………….  
  
“Mother, Dad, I need to tell you something.”  
  
They were sitting in the living room, sipping tea after a heavy lunch. Sansa had avoided telling them anything till now. She didn’t want to burst the bubble of happiness that was created when she walked in.  
  
“What is it, sweetheart?” her mother asked, with a kind smile.  
  
“I don’t know where to begin..”  
  
How do you tell her parents that you are pregnant? Out of wedlock? With a man she barely knew? Sometimes she wishes they taught these things at school. Jeez.  
  
“Oh my darling. Have you finally found someone?”  
  
“What?” Sansa asked in disbelief.  
  
“Well, you seem nervous. You don’t need to be. I am sure whoever the boy is, must be good. This is good news, isn’t it, Ned? I was so worried you would die a spinster” her mother laughed.  
  
“What are you talking about?”  
  
“Oh honey come on. 26 is old. Soon you will start getting wrinkles. And then all the firmness in your body will sag away. You should make use of your youth while it lasts. Pregnancies can be complicated as you grow older, you know? If you meet a nice boy now and have a kid down the row, maybe even in two years, it’ll still be old, but at least you will not be over thirty. See, thirty is when a woman’s body fails her. I had to try so much before I could conceive your broth..”  
  
“STOP” Sansa yelled. “Will you let me speak, please?”  
  
Seeing no response from her mother, Sansa breathed in deep.  
  
Here goes.  
  
“I am pregnant. It was someone I met recently. I am not sure if he wants to take up the mantle of being a father but you both know how much I love kids. I would really love to keep this child. But I don’t earn enough for that. I would be glad if you guys could help me”  
  
Sansa had planned on a much larger speech, which would have been more convincing but at the moment, this is all that her brain could supply. She decided to go with it.  
  
“You’re what?” her father asked.  
  
“Pregnant, dad. I am pregnant”  
  
_Silence._  
  
Sansa looked at her parents for a long, long time. Neither seemed to speak.  
  
“I know it’s a shock. I was surprised too, believe me.” Sansa chuckled, trying to alleviate some tension. It failed remarkably. “I think this is a sign. I have always wanted a baby and now I have one and I really want to..”  
  
“I taught you _everything._ ” Her mother whispered.  
Sansa looked at her mother quizzically.  
  
Her mother lifted her head and looked at Sansa. Her shoulders stiffened. She had never seen this look in her mother’s eyes. Anger rolled off her mother's visage  
  
“I taught you everything. Even when you wanted to run around like a fool, I made you sit and practice your stitches. I took you to every class I could. Ballet, piano, painting, French, Latin, everything. And for all of it to come to this? For you to whore yourself out? Sleep with some random man and become pregnant like a woman from the streets?”  
  
“Cat!” she heard her father gasp.  
  
Sansa felt like she had been slapped across the face. She would have accepted anger and hurt from her parents. Never could see have imagined the venom that would drip from her mother’s tongue.  
  
“Don’t Ned.” She warned. “Arya, I expect this from. But not you. Maybe if Arya were you, she would at least have a plan in place to afford her own spawn. She wouldn’t come _begging_ like you”  
  
Sansa’s eyes filled with water. Her vision became blurry. For a moment, she thought it was a nightmare. She would wake up, any moment she would wake up and this wouldn’t be true.  
  
“You think you can just defile yourself, spread your legs for any man and then expect us to pay for your mistake?”  
  
“Mother”  
  
“Don’t you dare call me that. You had a perfect relationship with that Hardyng boy. You couldn’t even keep your man to yourself. You were so imperfect that he had to find pleasure in other women. And after that debacle, you come begging at my doorstep. I offered you a roof and you left because, what did she call it, Ned? – ah, because I was _pestering_ you about a relationship. If only you would have listened, you wouldn’t be here, would you? A shameful woman, carrying a bastard child.”  
  
“Cat, please, calm down” her father murmured.  
  
Her mother stood up from her seat.  
  
“Sansa Minisa Stark, if you think I will finance or cooperate with the results of your whoring adventures, then you do not know me. If you can spread your legs and accept a man’s seed, you can fend for yourself. Do not think for a moment that we will have anything to do with your mistakes.” She walked over to where Sansa was sitting, her shoulders shaking, barely contained the dam of emotion and grief wracking her body. “Get out of my house” she mother hissed.  
  
Sansa looked at her father. He was still sitting at the lounge, his head in his hands.  
  
She looked back up at her mother. There was a malicious glint in her eye. This was not the woman who had beamed at Sansa after her first ballet performance and had taken her to an ice cream shop to commemorate the moment. She was not the woman who had sat beside her on a cold Sunday morning, burrowed under the furs, watch Princess Diaries and sipping on hot cocoa.  
  
Sansa lifted her purse from the couch beside hers, padded to the door, pulled her coat on and walked out, closing the doors of her childhood home behind her.  
  
……………  
  
Sansa had been walking for some time now.  
  
She had walked out of the Stark gate and taken a left and then she had no idea where she had gone after that. In between wiping her snot and tears and crying her eyes out, she had taken turns that led her somewhere in the maze of the city. Soon, it began snowing. Sansa’s coat began becoming damp and she couldn’t find an umbrella in her bag. She didn’t even know what neighbourhood she was in.  
  
She did not want to go home. That was Arya’s home. Arya, who as her mother said, would have been more cautious and would have planned things out. Sansa did not even have a home. Her mother was right though, wasn’t she? Sansa had nothing planned. She just got pregnant and now she was begging people to take the burden of her mistake.  
  
She heard the phone vibrate in her pocket. She dug it out. It was an unknown number.  
  
She received the call and pressed the phone against her ear.  
  
_“Hello? Miss Stark. This is Sandor Clegane. Can we meet sometime this week and talk?”_   
  
Another person that Sansa had gone begging to. Another man who wanted nothing to do with her and she forced him to be a part of his life. He probably had an entire life goal for himself that was so different from hers but here she was, asking for his help. Because she was selfish. _A selfish whore_.  
  
The voice on the other side was still speaking.  
  
_“Hello? Miss Stark, can you hear me?”_  
  
“Yes” she managed to reply.  
  
_“Miss Stark? Are you alright?”_  
  
Was she? Alright? Her mother had called her things that people never called anyone, no matter the hatred. Her father, her protector, had sat there, watching Sansa get humiliated and had done nothing. They might as well have slapped her and beat her. That would have hurt less.  
  
Unbidden, her body shook with the force of renewed remorse.  
  
_“Damn it woman, answer me. Are you safe? Where are you? Are you alone? Give me an address.”_  
  
She looked around. She was near building 13. A little walk down the road gave her the street name. She gave him the address and heard the call end.  
  
Of course he would hang up on her.  
  
Sansa sat down on a bench in front of the building, her mother’s words reverberating in her mind like a litany of chants.  
  
Whore. Whore. Beggar. Imperfect. Shameful. Defiled. _Whore._  
  
_Bastard._  
  
She let the tears consume her being. Where the tears soaked her and where the melting snow, she couldn't tell the difference. It was all the same. All consuming grief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a lot of people may disagree with Catelyn Stark and Ned Stark's portrayal here but hear me out. Catelyn has always been fiercely protective of her children. While it is a redeeming trait of her, she had made quite a few mistakes because of it. Her love for her children and vilification of their action has a very deep correlation, in my opinion. In this AU, she has a certain pedestal that she holds Sansa in, more of which I will explore in later chapters, and when she notices Sansa diverting from it, she loses her shit. Added to that her hatred of all things illegitimate (cough cough Jon cough cough) makes her more vindictive towards Sansa.  
> As for Ned, I think he was so extremely shocked that he couldn't conjure a response. He is after all, a soft dad, and his daughter getting pregnant is unacceptable and unforeseen for him.  
> I promise I will explain everything more in the coming chapters. 
> 
> Also, I needed angst and this worked so imma do it for the plot. :P 
> 
> I am currently working on ch6 but I will probably limit posting to one update each day. I have finals coming up and I need to write essays on war and history and not on Sansan but I will go down with the ship so bye bye grades. :))


	5. Chapter Five: Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor to the rescue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be aware that word count will be anywhere between 2500-4000 from now on.  
> I want the plot to progress and don't want to drag this out unnecessarily. I have other SanSan concepts in mind that I want to work on. There is no sense in dragging this out for 50 odd chapters. So be prepared for some very long reads ;)
> 
> Enjoy.

The car went round the curve of the road.  
  
He didn’t have to look too far to spot her.  
  
She sat on a bench, huddled on to herself. It had begun lightly snowing outside after he left his place. And here she sat, in the snow, in the middle of nowhere, wearing a flimsy coat, with no umbrella, and freezing to death. What kind of an irresponsible person did that? She was pregnant, for God sake! She needed to be more careful.  
  
He parked his car near the bench and opened the door and got out.  
  
“Miss Stark, do you have anywhere you need to be right now?” he asked. The girl shook her head.  
  
“Miss Stark, do you want me to take you somewhere?” she shook her head.  
  
“Miss Stark, are you alright?” he finally asked. She shoulders shook and she nodded her head.  
  
For one second, Sandor lost his patience. He wanted to grab her by the shoulder and shake her until she answered him with words. He wanted to yell at her, demanding reason for putting her health at risk, for being so immature as to sit out in snow.  
  
He balled his hands into fists and breathed out. He would lash out at her. Later. She more than deserved it. For now, he needed her to get someplace warm.  
  
He knelt in front of her. The water of the melted snow on the road soaked through the jeans where his left knee bent and touched the road. The hem of his coat absorbed water where it splayed on the floor. He placed one hand on the wet concrete of the floor and with his right hand, touched her knee tentatively.  
  
“Look, woman. It’s freezing outside. You are soaked through and I need to get you somewhere warm. Get in the car and then we can talk. Just please, move.” He implored. He stood and offered her a hand. His right palm turned upwards and waiting for her. After an agonizing moment, one that tested Sandor’s patience, the girl relented and slipped her hand in his.  
  
He grabbed her hand and helped her stand. His left hand briefly touched her coat and he realized it was wet to boot. Leaving her hand, he started taking off his coat. It was double layered with stuffing and would keep her warm. They’d be inside the car soon so he wouldn’t freeze as well.  
  
“Remove your coat. Take mine.” He offered. She girl stared at him dumbly.  
  
Sandor lost his patience.  
  
“Look, woman. I don’t have the patience of a sage. Take my damn coat and get in the car. I am not going to let you freeze on a sidewalk and have a hypothermia. Take the fucking coat, get in the car and then we can talk.” He hissed.  
  
She began taking off her coat and he helped her. Placing it on the bench, he took off his own coat. Damn. It was cold as fuck outside. Even with hundred pounds of muscles, he could feel the chill seeping into his bones. The fact that her lithe body hadn’t succumbed to it was miraculous. He helped her wear the coat and moved in front of her to zip the first layer of the coat and button the top layer. When he looked up he realized she had been crying. He wanted to ask her what happened when his body gave an involuntary shiver and he realized that now it was him who was at the danger of dying. He quickly retrieved her coat from the bench and guided her back to the car. After she sat, he closed the door and made the short run to his side of the vehicle. Once inside, he threw her coat at the back of the car and he turned up the heater. He began driving to café he knew was somewhere nearby. A warm beverage would help her cold. He knew pregnant women avoided caffeine but maybe he could get her some herbal tea.  
  
He noticed that within five minutes, her teeth had stopped chattering and she tentatively began holding her palm against the air vents.  
  
“Take off your shoe and socks. You need to warm your feet.” He advised. He was still pissed at her. But he wanted her to warm up first before she got her much deserved tongue lashing.  
  
He spotted the café and parked his car.  
  
“Is herbal tea okay for you?” he asked. She nodded meekly.  
  
He walked out of the car and sprinted to the shop. Walking up to the counter, he ordered a ginger herbal tea for her and a cappuccino for himself. He paid and carried the drinks to the car.  
  
Once in, he handed her her tea and placed his cup on the coffee holder. Before hitting the ignition, he said, “Next time that I stop, I will stop somewhere we can talk. I don’t care what explanation you have for sitting in the middle of a fucking city, letting snow just seep all over yourself but you better have a good reason. I don’t care if you freeze to death but if you put that child in risk again, so help me God, I will end you.” he turned to look at her, anger and fire in his eyes and realized that she’d been staring wide eyed at him. She nodded at him multiple times.  
  
Good. Message received then.  
  
……………  
  
He stopped the car near a public park.  
  
“Talk.” He commanded.  
  
She sat the now empty cup in the holder between them. She had since opened the top layer of the coat and had warmed her toes and fingers.  
She cleared her throat.  
  
“You don’t seem like the person who would care about having kids. I got scared. I kept thinking that what if this was my only chance, you know? My only chance at being a mother? What if I terminated and then never met someone and never got pregnant again? What if the next time I got pregnant, something happens and I lose the baby? What if this is meant to be?”  
  
She breathed in deeply, apparently trying to control her rambling. She continued.  
  
“I thought you’d say no. So I went to my parents. I thought they’d agree to help. If not completely, then partially at least. At the least, I thought I could work out some arrangement whereby they would look after the kid during the hours that I went to work. I mean, it’s the least they could do as grandparents, right?” she said and chuckled sadly as if she’d been saying something very ironical.  
  
“None of that explains why you were sitting out in the cold, you foolish little bird” he said.  
  
“What else can I do? Where can I go? I have nothing. Nothing! I earn shitty pay teaching five year olds. When I took the job, I was going to shape young minds and change the world. And now I’m 26, single, pregnant, with barely 5000 in saving and according to my mother, a whore.”  
  
The last word launched the woman into another tirade of sobs.  
  
Sandor was confused. He didn’t understand what she meant when she said that her mother called her whore. “Wait, what happened when you went to your parent’s house?” he asked.  
  
“I told them I was pregnant. I thought they’d be upset but I could convince them to contribute a little, you know? I knew they’d be angry. I was always the perfect kid and an out of wedlock promiscuous pregnancy is very unlike me. But the reaction was extreme.”  
  
The woman looked at her hands on her lap and Sandor saw tears roll off her cheek, and fall on her hand.  
  
“My mother said some very mean things. Said that I had been defiled. That I am a whore.”  
  
The woman chocked back a sob. She continued.  
  
“The worst part? I actually believe her. She isn’t wrong. I did this without even having a plan. I don’t even have an apartment. I stay at my sister’s. My _younger_ sister’s. I don’t even have a good health insurance. I made a mistake and now I’m asking my parents to pay for it, I’m asking you to pay for it. You’re a bachelor. You probably don’t even want kids and here I am, sitting in your car, drinking tea and begging you for charity. A selfish whore. That’s all I am” she finished with a pitiful smile.  
  
They both sat in silence for what seemed like an hour. In front of them, the park was covered in a thin layer of snow. On a bench under a barren tree, a brunette sat reading a book. She was reading it aloud to her partner, judging from the movement of her mouth. The woman’s partner was wrapped on her right side, the two cuddled together, wearing layers of clothing, shielding them from the chill in the air. A boy with hair the same shade as that of the brunette was playing with a dog, a lab by the looks of it. The boy was running around, making snowballs and chucking them at the dog. The animal seemed to enjoy the game. Soon, the boy grew bored and trotted back to his parents. the dog followed the boy and began circling around the family. The brunette stopped reading the book and looked at the boy as her partner opened her arms and ushered the boy into the warmth of her embrace. Sandor could see the boy chattering excitedly at his mothers and could feel their love for the boy in the way the two women looked at the toddler, with big smiles on their face.   
  
“I want it” he said out of the blue.  
  
She turned her head to him and looked at him quizzically. He noted the scrunch of her nose when she made her face like that.  
  
“The baby.” He explained. “I want it.” He looked back at the family and continued. “I haven’t done a lot right in my life. There’s people that I have let down and failed to protect. But this, my child, I will fight for. I want them”  
  
He looked at the family as the brunette lurched forward to tickle the boy, who was still in his mother’s embrace. The shrill laughter of the child could be heard all the way inside the car and Sandor smiled.  
  
“Are you sure about this, Mr Clegane? Please don’t make a haste decision and back out of it later. I wouldn’t be able to cope with that.” The Little Bird sounded so vulnerable.  
  
He turned his head towards her and found her looking at him already. He held her eyes and nodded briefly.  
  
“I have never been surer of anything before.”  
  
………….  
  
After a while of sitting in the car, Sandor hit the ignition key.  
  
“Where do you want me to take you?”  
  
Sansa looked at her hands on her lap. “I am not sure. I don’t want to go home. Arya will have a lot of questions for me. I know she means well but I don’t think I am ready for being interrogated again” she muttered.  
  
“I understand. Come over to mine. You can change and spend the night at my place. I will drop you at your place tomorrow morning when I go for work.”  
Blush rose on her cheeks.  
  
“Um. I don’t want to intrude.”  
  
“Too little, too late. I am taking you home.” He said and drove them towards his house.  
  
He parked his car and the both of them walked towards the elevator. He hit the button for the 15th floor and a two minute awkward silence induced ride brought them on his floor. Sandor unlocked the door and walked in and Stranger used his Master’s distraction to rain kisses on Sansa’s jeans.  
  
“Down, boy. Sorry, Miss Stark. He’s usually better behaved.”  
  
“Its alright. I don’t mind.” She said and knelt on the floor to pat the dog and kiss its head gently. “And please call me Sansa. Given the, um, circumstances, I think we can use each other’s first name.”  
  
“Fair enough. I will get you spare towel and some clothes”  
  
He walked to his room and walked into his walk-in closet. He looked around. Everything in here was meant for his large 6”6 and 230 pound frame. He didn’t bother keeping guest pajamas. He didn’t even have guests that often. The second bedroom in his apartment was only ever used when Tormund or Bronn got too drunk and needed someplace to crash. And he didn’t go around offering his clothes to those smelly, sweaty fuckers. He rummaged through the drawers and found a shirt. The material was soft and nice and a bit tight for him. He found some sweats with drawstrings. It would pool at her feet but at least she could secure it around the waist. He had plenty of extra towels and took the one that was on top of the pile. He kept everything on the corner in the en suite in the guest bedroom. He went to his en suite and got few toiletries for her. He checked and made sure that the guest bedroom had pillows, clean sheet and a duvet before he told her the room was ready.  
  
He found her in the exact position he left her in, still kneeling on the floor and playing with the dog. The dog seemed to enjoy taking all her affection.  
  
He cleared his throat and she looked up at him.  
  
“I found some clothes for you. They are ill fitting but they are all that I have to offer. I didn’t have extra toiletries so I kept mine in there. The knob turns to the right for warm water. Feel free to take a bath if you want. The dryer is in the room down the hallway. You can use it. I will fix us some dinner. Is pizza okay?”  
  
She nodded and followed his direction when he showed her the spare bedroom. She walked in, faced him, said a “thank you” and closed the door.  
  
Stranger sat in front of the door, whining at the loss of the woman.  
  
“Quit moping around, ya mutt. Come, eat your dinner, you attention starved creature.”  
  
He walked to the kitchen and Stranger trailed behind him. After giving stranger his food and water in his bowl, Sandor dug around for the menu card of the pizza place nearby. He called them and asked them to deliver a plain pizza, a barbecue pizza and a pepperoni pizza. All large. He had skipped lunch and he could feel his stomach digesting itself out of hunger.  
  
He spent some time on his phone looking at news when he heard the doorbell ring. He opened the door and paid the delivery man who was standing still, probably from the shock of having a half burnt man open the door. In another time, Sandor would be pissed but right now, he was hungry.  
  
He placed the three boxes on the counter and waited for the woman, _Sansa,_ he corrected mentally, to emerge.  
  
He was about to lose his brain cell from hunger when he heard the door click. Stranger’s ear perked up and that mutt, the one who would let Sandor be murdered in cold blood before he abandoned his dinner, left his bowl and padded up to Sansa. She emerged wearing Sandor’s clothing.  
  
The shirt looked like it belonged to someone twice her size. It kept falling off her shoulder from one side. The bottom of the sweatpants had been folded multiple times and he could see faint indentation of her having secured it high on her hips. Her hair was wet and the tips left dark stains on the light blue of the shirt. She was walking towards him with Stranger on her side, who was looking up at her like he worshiped the very earth on which she walked.  
  
“Dinner’s here. Grab yourself a slice. You can join me in the living room if you want to.” He said and began piling several slices of the different pizzas on his plate.  
  
“I will join you soon. I have to call my sister first and let her know I won’t be coming in tonight.” She said.  
  
“Okay,” he said before shoving quarter of a slice in his mouth. _Heaven._  
  
………………..  
  
Sandor ate almost two pizzas on his own. Sansa ate barely three slices. She had joined him on the couch after fifteen minutes. There was some tension on her face but she did not seem to want to talk about it. So he didn’t ask. The dinner passed in amicable silence with the television filling up any chance of awkward silence.  
  
By the end of the night, she seemed more relaxed. Her hair had begun drying and the deep burgundy settled to a lighter shade of red. She helped him clean up and dispose the waste.  
  
“What time do you have work tomorrow?” he asked.  
  
“9 am. I need to be home by 8. I live on Chantilly Avenue.”  
  
“Okay. I will wake you up at 6, then?”  
  
She nodded at him. “Goodnight Sandor. Thank you for everything today.”  
  
They were standing near the hallway. She looked at him and smiled. “You are a good man, Sandor Clegane” she said and walked towards the room.  
  
He stood there for a moment before collecting himself. He switched off the lights to the hallway and walked towards his room. He walked into his room and took off his shirt and changed into sweats. He wore a black tank top and grey sweats and moved to lift his duvet and slip in. He noticed stranger standing near the door.  
  
“What? Go on. Your bed is right there, go sleep”  
  
The dog whined low in his throat and turned his head towards the spare bedroom. Sandor rolled his eyes.  
  
“Go on. Annoy her for a change.”  
  
The dog barked at him and skipped down the hallway.  
  
Sandor burrowed himself under the duvet and closed his eyes. His last thought before he slept was that his dog was a turncoat of the worst kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stranger is a main character in this story and for that, I shall not apologize. If it were up to me, I would write a Stranger POV. 
> 
> Working on chapter 6. It should be up tomorrow.
> 
> Update: Several inconsistencies were brought to my attention by AdultOrphan and they have now been corrected. Sorry for the mistakes. x


	6. Chapter Six: Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3/4 fluff and 1/4 progression of plot.

Someone was licking her face.  
  
_What the hell?_  
  
Sansa’s eyes flew open and met a black snout.  
  
“Stranger! Stop licking me” she admonished gently. The dog whined and lay his head down on her stomach, over the covers. She relaxed back into the pillow and brushed her hands through the dog’s head and back lovingly. She never wanted to leave this bed. It was so soft and comfortable. The pillow seemed like it was going to swallow her head in and the duvet was such a comforting weight on her. Sansa sighed and turned to look out of the large glass windows. It was just starting to brighten up outside. She picked her phone from the bedside table and checked the time.  
  
5:30 am.  
  
She had half an hour before Sandor was supposed to wake her up.  
  
_Sandor._  
  
Rough around the edges, soft on the inside.  
  
He had come to her rescue yesterday. He had given her warmth, quite literally and had let her vent about her life. And now, she was sleeping in his spare bedroom. In this massive bed. This massive _comfortable_ bed.  
  
She tried to roll on her left side and bile rose in her throat. Barely managing to press a hand against her mouth, she ran to the en suite. She managed to make it to the commode before spilling all her stomach’s content. She thought she heard Stranger bark behind her but when she looked back, he wasn’t there. She threw up several times and with her stomach empty, began dry heaving. Each time she heaved, the force left pain at the base of her throat and in her chest. Tears sprang in her eyes.  
  
She heard the door of the en suite burst open.  
  
“Sansa?”  
  
She looked up at Sandor Clegane standing by the door, wearing a tank top and sweats, muscles bulging all over his arms. He was standing near the door with a frightened expression on his face.  
  
She turned to the commode and heaved again and the pressure on her chest increased. As more tears clouded her vision, she began gasping for air. The stench around her only made her heave more and that led to more pain in her chest. It was like an everlasting circle of pain.  
  
She felt hands, large hands, rub circles along her back. The hand then moved to push her hair out of her face. Sansa was still gasping for air but she tried moving her hands up to flush the toilet. Her clouded vision couldn’t hit its target and felt Sandor hunch over her in an attempt to flush the toilet. With the stench gone, she dropped her head and began crying. Her chest felt congested and heavy and the pain was too much. She felt herself being lifted on the floor and felt as her ass touched something cold. She was sitting on the corner of the bathtub. A wet towel materialized in front of her and she saw Sandor cleaning her face. He cleaned her face and pushed her hair back. With a finger under her chin, he lifted her head to look at him.  
  
“Look up.” He said. “Looking down will congest your airway. Look at me and breathe through your mouth.”  
  
Sansa nodded through the tears and breathed in and out, following the pattern of the movement his chest created as he breathed. Having calmed herself down, she began feeling embarrassed. She had thrown up in front of a man she barely knew. She was in his house and throwing up in his expensive washroom and the first thing he had to do early in the morning was to see her throw up all over the place. She couldn’t look him in the eye anymore.  
  
He moved away from her.  
  
“Wash your mouth. I will get you a glass.” He said on his way out.  
  
She stood on unsteady feet and walked to the sink. She looked at her reflection briefly. She looked like shit. Her eyes were bloodshot and her nose was read and her hair was stuck to her forehead. She washed her mouth and splashed water on her face. She was drying her hands when Sandor walked in with a glass. He stood beside her and filled the glass with cold water and held it to her.  
  
“Drink. Slowly.”  
  
Sansa emptied the glass and handed it back.  
  
“I am sorry. Sorry you had to wake up to a girl throwing up on in your house.”  
  
“Not the first time.” He said with a smirk.  
  
“Why? Do many baby mamas walk in here every day?” she asked.  
  
“Nope”, he said, popping the p, “just you”. He smiled at her.  
  
“Good to know.”  
  
“Freshen up. It’s almost six anyway. I’ll make us some breakfast and then we can talk. I have a few things I want to discuss before we leave.”  
  
The seriousness of his tone was a complete contrast to the banter before. She swallowed nervously.  
  
“Sure.”  
  
She brushed her teeth with the spare toothbrush Sandor gave her and then took a shower and changed into the clothes that she wore yesterday. Once done, she walked to the living room and saw Sandor making breakfast. She offered to help him and they worked in the kitchen cordially. He drank coffee and ate scrambled eggs and toast. She settled for a plain toast, some fruits and a cup of tea.  
  
“So, you wanted to tell me something?” Sansa asked tentatively.  
  
“Yeah, about the baby.”  
  
Sansa placed the cup down and looked at him expectantly.  
  
“I am not sure up to what capacity I’d like to be there for the kid. I am sure no kid wants a dad who looks like a monster. Imagine bringing your half burnt dad to school on parent-teacher conferences. That would not be good for the kid.” He said with a self-depreciating chuckle.  
  
Sansa saw right through his humor. She had seen the same problem in some kids in her class. They would love pulling on other children’s hair and teasing them but deep inside, they were insecure and their insecurity presented itself in hatred. Sandor was the same. He tried covering up his pain through humor but she could see that there was a deeply hurt boy somewhere in him.  
  
“You know babies aren’t conditioned to be prejudiced towards appearances, right? And if my child grows up to be ashamed of their father for his physical appearance, I would consider it a failure of my parenting skill and my inability to raise a decent human being.”  
  
Sandor looked physically uncomfortable at being challenged like that.  
  
“Anyway,” he said, trying to divert the topic, “I don’t know to what extent I want to be there for the kid but I will contribute to whatever extent I can for the financial security of the kid. And if things turn out fine, I would want to raise the kid, you know, with you”  
  
“Actually, I thought a lot about it yesterday. Most of the pre-natal care can be done in subsidized clinics. Unless there is a complication, we will not need to go to a big clinic. We would, of course, need to decide on a birthing plan, but that isn’t due for another few months. So we can have that discussion later.”  
  
“Okay. Um, someone had actually advised me to get a lawyer and make a legal agreement about the money I would give the kid.”  
  
“Well, if that makes you comfortable, you could do that. That is your decision to make.”  
  
She saw the man rubbing his hand furiously on his pants and saw several creases envelop his forehead. She could see it all over his face that he was overthinking. It wasn’t as though Sansa had everything figured out. But she didn’t want both of them being overwhelmed at the same time. She knew that they needed to be calm and clear headed if they wanted to discuss important things  
  
She reached forward and held his hand.  
  
“When you saw me throwing up all over your en suite, did you plan beforehand what to do with me?” she asked gently. She knew she was using her Teacher Voice but the man in front of her looked like he needed it.  
  
“No.” he said in a small voice.  
  
“Then how did you swoop in like that and make me feel all better?”  
  
“I just saw you there and helped you. It was on instinct.”  
  
“That’s what parenting is, Sandor.” She said, rubbing a thumb over the hand that she was holding. “You can draw up a thousand scenarios but whatever happens, will happen without a two weeks’ notice and you will have to act on instinct. Besides, I am still in my first month. This is a very vulnerable period and anything can happen. So let’s just relax, and breathe” she noticed his chest inflate and smiled, “and let’s take this one step at a time, okay?”  
  
“Okay” he mumbled, squeezing her hand briefly.  
  
She stood up and ruffled his hair, out of instinct and gathered their plates to take it to the kitchen.  
  
“And don’t think I didn’t notice you treating me like one of your students, Little Bird. I might let it pass this time but the next time you mother me, I will show you some things I can do that those first graders of yours definitely can’t.”  
  
……………..  
  
They were a few minutes away from Sansa’s home when Sandor cleared his throat and spoke.  
  
“Um so, what now? Do we meet regularly? Do you want me to check on you every day? How does this work?”  
  
“How about this? Since you and I are going to raise a kid together, we need to be good friends. So let’s meet up like friends do. I stay busy through the weekday and I am sure you do too. So how about we meet up this Friday? We can text each other decide on the details.”  
  
Sandor nodded. After a while, he spoke up again.  
  
“Do we need to go do one of those ultrasound things?”  
  
“I think we can go in two weeks. I went to the clinic when I found out and it was too early to say anything but we can go the week after. It’ll be the eighth week and I think that should tell us more about the little Bean.”  
  
“Bean?” He asked incredulously with an arched brow.  
  
“Yeah, bean. Little Bean Stark-Clegane.” She smiled and patted her stomach.  
  
“Bean Stark-Clegane” he agreed and Sansa saw a small smile light up his face.  
  
…………..  
  
Sansa had a relatively good week. Her work kept her busy and she hardly found time to think about anything else. Sometimes, at night, with everything quite around her, she would remember the things her mother had told her and she would have to muffle her cries into the pillow.  
  
Her mother had raised her to be the perfect daughter. Sansa remembered coming home and crying after school, begging her mother to let her take a break for one day. She went to so many classes when she was a kid. She would stay in school for the better part of the day and then come home, eat lunch and go to another class again. Ballet, art, piano lessons, language classes, her mother took her to everything. Sometimes, Sansa would go to her Latin class and start speaking in French and sometimes she would get dressed up for ballet classes and then remember that it was Thursday and she had piano lessons. She remembered throwing a fit one weekend, demanding that she be freed from the torturous routine. Her mother must have reprimanded her because Sansa never asked again. But every time that Sansa achieved a milestone, her mother’s face would light up and she would reward Sansa and all the pain and hurt and confusion of the past would be forgotten. She had made her mother proud and that was all that mattered.  
  
Even with Harry, her mother had been so happy that her daughter was dating the Hardyng heir. Sansa recollected showing up to the annual anniversary celebration hosted by the Manderlys, her arms in Harry’s. She could see her mother’s proud grin from across the hall and could sense the jealousy of several of the people in the room. Moments like that thrilled her. But now, lying down on the twin bed in her sister’s apartment, she could not find it in herself to think back to those moments and gloat about it.  
  
When she came back home the other day, Arya had a lot of questions. Sansa knew that if she told her sister the whole story, the spitfire that her sister was, would probably call her parents to defend Sansa. But Sansa did not want the family to tear apart because of her. She merely told Arya that her parents had been upset and Sansa had left them to consider Sansa’s decision and that she would meet them again later.  
  
Arya also had a lot of questions about the man who had fathered the baby. Sansa had described him as best as she could. Tall, broad, a menacing presence, looks like he could probably lift a car with his bare hands but all soft and caring on the inside.  
  
“Like the Hulk?” Arya had asked, with glint in her eyes, like a child looking at their favourite superhero.  
  
And then her sister had spent the entire day pestering her with unnecessary questions.  
  
“Do you think he knows boxing? Do you think he will teach me boxing?” “Do you think he can show me how to hit people square in the jaw and break their teeth? I was only able to slightly bruise this creep I found harassing women on the road. Maybe if he taught me, I could go back and break a few bones.” “Do you think he knows swordplay?”  
  
After a point, Sansa had to wear earphones all the time in the house, pretending like she was listening to music when all she wanted to do was to be left alone in peace. It wasn’t as though she didn’t want Arya to meet Sandor but she knew he wasn’t very social. She did not want to freak him out by making her meet her siblings so soon.  
  
Him, on the other hand, he was warming up to her. Very slowly, at snail’s pace. Most days he would send her a text in the morning, asking her if she mad morning sickness. In the evenings, he would ask her how she was feeling. She knew he was just worried about the baby but the fact that someone was fussing over her made her chest warm and abated some of the grief she was feeling after the incident with her parents.  
  
…………………  
  
On Thursday, Sansa found herself sitting in the teacher’s lounge in the lunch hour, hunched over her phone, texting Sandor.  
  
**Sandor: Look at this pic I took yesterday.**  
  
**[Image attached]**  
  
**Sandor: He keeps trotting about in the spare bedroom, looking for you with the worst lovesick look on his face. It’s disgusting. Whatever you have done to my dog to enchant him so, I am ordering you to stop it. I want my dog back.**  
  
The picture featured Stranger lying down on the bed in the spare bedroom, his head on his paws, looking into the distance with a morose look on his face.  
  
**Sansa: I was nice to him. That’s all it took to enchant him. Maybe if you were nicer to him, he would love you the same.**  
  
**Sandor: Oh hell no, I didn’t say he loves you more than me. My dog is attention starved. Doesn’t mean he loves you more. He loves me. I’ve had him since he was two weeks old. He loves me, not you.**  
  
**Sansa: I bet if he sits between us and both of us call him, he will come to me. That should prove it to you.**  
  
**Sandor: Game on! That settles it then. We meet at my place tomorrow at 6 pm. Let’s see who Stranger loves more, a woman he’s barely met thrice or his master and pseudo-father of four years.**  
  
**Sansa: What’s the price of the debt?**  
  
**Sandor: Loser buys pizza.**  
  
**Sandor: I will send you a link of pizza places I like.**  
  
Sansa grinned. She would let him believe he was going to win this one.  
  
………………….  
  
Friday morning found her arched over the commode puking her guts out.  
  
Unlike the few times before, Sansa had learned to be prepared to handle the morning sickness. She would go to sleep with her hair tied back. It was inconvenient to have hair stuck all over her sweaty forehead in the morning. Every night, before going to sleep, she would keep a bottle of lemon water on the bathroom counter. She also started keeping some mint with her. Sansa also discovered that certain smells threw her off and made her stomach turn so she always kept lavender scented wipes on her.  
  
When she found herself heaving, she flushed the toilet and sat back and looked up at the ceiling and breathed through her mouth. After a while, she moved to the sink and washed her mouth with the lemon water. She was midway done with her pregnancy morning ritual when she heard her phone ring in the room. She walked to her bedside table and checked the name.  
  
_Dad_  
  
Her fingers shook as she swiped the screen and lifted the phone to her ears.  
  
_“Sansa?”_  
  
Sansa hesitated. How was she supposed to greet him? Ideally, she would be chipper and friendly, regaling him with stories about her students. But all she could think of right now was her Dad sitting in silence while her Mother insulted her and threw her out of her childhood room.  
  
“What do you want, dad?”  
  
She heard silence from the other side. She knew she must have hurt him by being curt. For as long as she remembered, Sansa had been the apple of her father’s eye. While she would understand her being short with him would make him upset, he had to understand that he had hurt her too.  
  
_“Sansa, I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry. You have to believe me, Sansa, when I say that if I could go back to that day, I would have responded very differently to the situation.”_  
  
Sansa felt tears form in her eyes. She could hear the regret in her father’s voice. She had never heard him begging before and now she could feel him asking her for forgiveness, earnestly. But none of that negated the agony in her heart of being insulted by her Mother and her father not being able to stop it.  
  
“But you can’t Dad. You can’t go back. All of those things Mother said to me, all the names she called me, you can’t take it back. I know you both were upset but you know how much I love kids. And this is my child, Dad. My baby. It’s all I have ever wanted and I was demeaned for it.”  
  
Sansa fought to keep her voice stern. She had tears flowing freely on her face. She was upset, for sure. But she was also sad. She wanted her father to know the hurt he had caused her.  
  
_“I know, my child. I know. And I am so sorry I couldn’t stop it. I was so shocked when I heard the news and it numbed me. I kept trying to think of a good response and by the time I could react, your mother was already saying those things to you and I couldn’t stop her.”_  
  
“Just like you couldn’t stop her with Jon?”  
  
Sansa knew it was something that was never spoken freely in her house. Aunt Lyanna had had Jon when she was still a teen. Her father had taken custody of the boy while her aunt had moved on with her life. Jon was born into the early months of her parents wedding and him being the first Stark male heir earned him the scorn of Catelyn Stark until he turned 18 and went off to the army. He never came back home again. It was only after he left that Sansa realized what a jerk she had been to him. She had merely wanted to follow her mother’s teaching but in the process she had hurt a boy so much that he escaped the first chance he got and found a home in a cold, deserted land with fellow soldiers. She had tried to make up with him through letters and phone calls and he had been very forgiving and courteous. That was perhaps the first time Sansa realized that her mother wasn’t always right.  
  
Sansa heard her Father draw in a breath when she spoke. She knew she was crossing a line but she was beyond caring.  
  
“Look, Dad. Jon didn’t have anyone to stand up for him. But I will not sit around while someone insults me or my child. Of course I would have loved to be married and settled before being pregnant but some things are beyond my control.”  
  
There was silence for a while and then she heard her father ask in a low voice.  
  
_“Are you keeping the baby, Sansa?”_  
  
“Yeah, Dad. I am. I have spoken to the father and he and I have decided to raise the child together.”  
  
_“Is he a good man?”_  
  
Sansa smiled. “Yeah, Dad. He is a good man.”  
  
_“Good. Good. Listen, honey, I know you will not forgive me anytime soon and I don’t expect you to. I am so sorry for my inability to stop the, um, situation the other day. But please know that your happiness means the world to me. If this baby means so much to you, I am happy for you.”_  
  
“Thanks, Dad.”  
  
_“And you don’t have to do this alone, Sansa. I can give you money for childcare. I have money cut out for each of you and if you want, I can give you your share immediately, if you need it.”_  
  
Sansa pinched the bridge of her nose. She had so much to consider and so many decisions to make, it was going to give her a headache.  
  
“Um, thanks, Dad. I will let you know, okay? I have to go now. I have work. Bye”  
  
She hastily pulled the phone from her and heard her father mutter a quite _“Goodbye”_.  
  
She sat down on her bed and held her head in her hands. She had spoken to her school administration yesterday and found out that employee’s children could study at the Highgarden branch of schools with half the fee. She knew she could go to local clinics for prenatal care. These things significantly bought the cost down but she would still need Sandor’s help with the kid. Besides, they had agreed to raise the kid together. Accepting her father’s money would mean that she could provide half the cost and wouldn’t completely have to depend on her Sandor’s money. But accepting it would also prove her mother right, that Sansa was making others pay for her mistakes. She was so confused.  
  
She heard her phone ding and swiped the screen to look at the message she received.  
  
**[Video attached]**  
  
**Sandor: It’s almost as if he knows you’re coming over today. Looking at him flopping around the house.**  
  
In the video, Stranger was running all over the apartment. He came bounding towards Sandor, ran around his legs and took off to the other side of the hallway and came back to the kitchen and began prancing around, woofing all the while. She could her Sandor saying behind the camera, “Calm the fuck down, you idiot. Quit your yapping.”  
  
She laughed at the absolute chaos the two Cleganes were making.  
  
She would think about her father’s words later.  
  
For now, she had a job to do, kids to teach, a dog to meet and a very important bet to win.  
  
She already knew the pizza she would make Sandor order. Pineapple and anchovies. She could imagine the scowl on his face and it made her heart fill with joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since y'all weren't opposed to a Stranger POV, I will do one sometime in the future. 
> 
> For now, I am working on Ch7. 
> 
> Also, I just want to clarify that this fic will have a lot of fluff. I have angst planned but for another chapter or two, I will focus more on Sansa and Sandor bonding and making important decisions. I hope that's fine with y'all. 
> 
> It has been raining so much where I live and I hate being cooped up inside the house in such a gloomy weather but I hope you all have sunny, warm, fun-filled days. x


	7. Chapter Seven: Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bet and Sandor shares some much needed wisdom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. I had an essay submission yesterday and an exam today. They were the last of my grad exams and now I am a free human (until the next six months, lol)

Sandor spent two whole days training Stranger.  
  
He knew the dog loved beef jerky. So he got two packets of sodium free beef jerky and got the dog to come to him, leaving all his distractions aside. Sandor would pile all of Stranger’s toys on one side and stand on the other and call him over. Whenever the dog came to him, Sandor would give him a piece of jerky. The dog soon learned that if he came to Sandor, he would get a treat.  
  
Sandor knew it was childish to take a friendly bet so seriously but damn it all. She was challenging his command over his own dog. He couldn’t stand by and let her do it.  
He had spent the whole week texting her.  
  
His heart had leaped out of his mouth when Stranger had woken him up the week before. He’d soon realized that Stranger never barked that loud, not unless it was an emergency. So he’d ran behind his dog to the guest en suite where he had seen Sansa folded over the commode, vomiting. His brain had briefly supplied the phrase “morning sickness” and he’d immediately moved to help her out. Ever since, he had been worried that she would have to go through the same horrendous ritual each morning. So he texted her and reminded her to take care of herself. A little snooping on the internet taught him that ginger helped with morning sickness. He had purchased two packets of ginger tea on his way home the next day.  
  
He had looked into his finance and had called his insurance company a few days ago. His health insurance would cover the cost of birthing. However, once the child was born, they would need a healthcare of their own. Sandor had already started looking into several options for that. He knew he wanted to wait for a while. If the child had any genetic condition, he knew he would require a strong insurance that would cover any cost related to frequent surgeries.  
  
He had accidently tried searching the worst possible genetic condition a baby could have and had to instantly shut down his computer and go for a walk. There was a laundry list of things that could go wrong. He had no immediate relative alive who could give them a little insight of his family’s medical history. All he knew that his family was full of monsters and beasts and while that wasn’t inherited, he wished that when it came to genes, the baby would be all Sansa and just a tiny sliver of Sandor.  
  
Sometimes when she spoke to him, he felt like she was mothering him. While Sandor did not necessarily like it, he had missed anyone fussing over him for a long while. Sandor was a loner to boot. He never had anyone to go home to, besides his dog and he had no family to speak of. The only interaction he had with people outside work was with his colleagues over the weekend. But that too, was limited. Tormund was busy pursuing this blond doctor who was obviously not into him, Bronn was chasing this girl called Lollys and even though Bronn often said that he was in it just for the money, he had begun to notice that Bronn was growing soft on the girl. Other than those two, he sometimes hung out with Davos and Beric. But both of those men had a family of their own and only met with Sandor when they needed a break from their wives. The Elder Brother and Sandor were quite close and the man was possibly the only person Sandor would consider family.  
  
On Tuesday, Sandor had picked up dinner from the Brother’s favourite restaurant and taken it over to the man’s house. He had informed the man that he was indeed keeping the baby and was planning to raise it with the mother.  
  
The man had been pleasantly surprised and had looked over at Sandor and smiled.  
  
“You know I am proud of you, right, Sandor? I know you have your doubts but I think you will make a wonderful father.”  
  
The two men had spent the whole evening together. Sandor had told him about Stranger’s newest antics and Sansa’s progression and the man had told Sandor about the newest gossip in the VA.  
  
There had been a brief pause in their conversation when both men were sitting in the patio, overlooking the sunset when the Brother had sighed and spoken softly.  
  
“I hope you know that I intend to spoil my grandchild very much, Sandor.”  
  
For a minute, Sandor was confused. The Elder Brother had a wife, at some point, but she had passed away long ago and as far as he knew, the man did not have a child. So whose child was he referring to?  
  
And then it hit Sandor.  
  
And if at that moment, Sandor had to swallow a lump in his throat and burrow down the torrent of emotion that was threatening to burst out of him, he did his best not to show it and merely nodded at the man who smiled and turned back to admire the sunset.  
  
Sandor’s family was as shitty as they came and the Brother had been his mentor for about a decade now. Sandor had learned quite a bit from the man. And though his enlightening conversations irked the young man sometimes, Sandor knew it was all meant for good. Sandor was eternally grateful to the Brother for his job, his change in life and his well-being. The man was more a father to Sandor than his own father had ever been. The Brother considering Bean as his grandchild threatened the composure of the young man, who wanted to run up to the old man, envelop him in a hug and thank him for existing in Sandor’s life.  
  
But if Sandor was anything, it was being uncomfortable with open displays of emotions.  
  
So he sat back stoically and continued the evening.  
  
When Sandor was gathering his things to leave, carrying the trash in his left hand that we was going to take out for the man, the Brother had pleaded Sandor to introduce Sansa to him. Sandor said that he would think about it and bid the man goodbye and left.  
  
…………………….  
  
By the time Friday rolled around, Sandor found himself knee deep in his work.  
  
He knew Sansa would come at 6. Which meant that he needed to be home an hour before to clean up the mess that his apartment was in. He also had to buy few things for the spare bedroom. Sandor wanted Sansa to pack an overnight bag but he did not want to sound too presumptuous. He knew that she would come and spend time with him and he knew he would ask her to stay the night at his place and if she agreed, she’d need a few things. So he wanted to make a quick run to the store and get some toiletries and a set of pajamas for her.  
  
He was very unsure about his feelings when it came to the mother of his child. He liked spending time with her. Unlike the first time that they’d met, they weren’t drunk and weren’t trying to pounce on each other. The more he spoke to her, the more he realized that he liked spending time with her. She was calm and understanding, sweet, but snarky when he was being too much of an ass. All he knew was that for now, he liked her as a friend. A friend with a baby in her tummy. His baby. The situation was very complicated but he honestly hoped they would develop a cordial relation so as to not harm the kid.  
  
While at work, Sandor completed as many tasks as he could. He wanted to leave by 4 pm but he didn’t want to leave too much work pending for the next week. So he took his lunch in his office and looked over the finances of the Varys International Conglomerates. Sandor’s company and VIC were going to make a deal for supply of valves in the western region but Sandor had to ensure that the company’s financial records were indisputably correct. The deal would cost his company hundreds and thousands of dragons and Sandor needed to ensure that the profits from the deal in another five years would at least be triple the investment. He looked over the files while munching through his lunch.  
  
At 3, Sandor began wrapping up. He started preparing his weekly report. He stuck a few post-it here and there to remind him of the tasks for next week. He emailed some of the important documents to his personal address so that he could check them in the weekend.  
  
As he was standing outside, handing over the papers to Podrick, he saw Tormund approach him. How that man got away with wearing Hawaiian shirts in a formal work place, Sandor didn’t know. The man’s fashion choice were despicable.  
  
“Oi, mutt, you want to meet at Shaw’s today? Beric is paying. Let’s go rob that fucker, eh?” the man laughed, his whole body shaking with the force of laughter.  
  
“No, Tormund. I have to go home today.” Sandor wanted to be short and precise. He did not want his colleagues snooping around in his personal life.  
  
The ginger came closer to Sandor, almost invading his personal space.  
  
“Sandor Clegane is wrapping up the day at 4 pm?”  
  
The ginger came closer to Sandor and narrowed his eyes. Sandor merely stepped back and continued passing the file to Podrick. After a while, Tormund’s eyes grew big and a gasped.  
  
“It’s a woman! It has to be! There is a girl waiting for you back at home”  
  
“There is no girl, Tormund.”  
  
“I bet she is a real fine woman if she’s making Sandor Clegane leave work three hours before he usually does.”  
  
“Tormund, go eat someone else’s head off. Leave me alone.”  
  
“Aye, special she is, this girl. Bet you’re gonna be all over her all night long, eh?”  
  
“Tormund.” Sandor warned. “When was the last time you were punched in the face?”  
  
“Two days ago.” The man deadpanned.  
  
Sandor rolled his eyes and began gathering his things to leave.  
  
“Remember to make it real slick and nice before you jam it in and then” the man said and proceeded to do some weird gestures with his hands and his lower body.  
  
If Sandor knew anything about sex, he knew that some of those things Tormund was doing was definitely not it and he began pitying the blond that the ginger cunt liked. Sandor could hear Tormund hollering all the way across the room, up until the elevator door closed.  
  
…………………  
  
“Let’s do this”, she said with determination in her eyes.  
  
Sansa squatted down on one end of the hallway, near the laundry room and Sandor squatted down on the other end, near the kitchen, the spare bedroom and the storage room being in the hallway. They narrowed their eyes at each other.  
  
“Ready?” he asked.  
  
“I was born ready, Clegane.”  
  
With a nod from her, they both began calling Stranger on their side. Sansa’s “Hey boy, come here. Who wants some kisses, huh? Who wants a wittle bewwy wub?” was contrasted by Sandor’s “Here boy, come here. Come to papa. Remember when you were rotting at the shelter and I got you? Who gives you tasty treats through the week, huh?”  
  
Stranger gave them both impassive looks and walked off to the spare bedroom to retrieve the toy he had left them. Sandor and Sansa, waited, squatting on the ground and saw Stranger return to the hallway and walk past Sandor to the kitchen where he sat with his toy and began playing with it. The two humans gawked at the insolent dog.  
  
“Um, who won?” Sandor heard Sansa ask from the end of the hallway.  
  
“I have no clue.”  
  
What a massive let down.  
  
……………………..  
  
The two decided to make something at home instead of ordering food in. Given that Sandor had taken a trip to the grocery store the very same day, his pantry and fridge were stocked. They settled on making lasagne. Sansa, at some point, had put on music on her phone and had left it on the counter while they cooked. Sandor cut the vegetables while Sansa prepped the sauce. Both of them moved around each other and conversation flowed easily between them. Sandor told her a little about his time in the military, his journey to becoming an accountant and finally about his job. Sansa told him about her family and told him about the antics of her sister. They spoke throughout the cooking process. When the lasagne sat in the oven, they sat on the counter and continued to talk. They even spoke through the whole dinner. The entire time, Sandor felt at ease.  
Usually, his house would just be him and stranger. Between the man and the dog, there wouldn’t be much noise or activity in the house. Sometimes, to abate the silence, Sandor would switch on the television and walk around the house and go about his business. It didn’t matter if there was a show playing in the background, a telemarketing advertisement, the news or a reality TV show, it helped fill the silence and that’s all that mattered. The house sometimes seemed too big and too quite. Often, Sandor would fall asleep on the couch, the expansive Queen bed in the room abandoned for something cosier. With the sofa cushions at the back, sometimes, he could pretend someone was with him.  
  
With Sansa, the house became livelier. She kept the conversation flowing between the both of them and even managed to extract stories about his colleagues from him. The more he heard about her sister, the more he was sure he wanted to meet her.  
  
When the dinner was done, they moved to the kitchen to wash the dishes. As Sandor dried the dishes, Sansa turned to clean the counter. Sandor tried to hide his nervousness by focusing on the dishes in front of him.  
  
“Would you like some tea?” he asked tentatively.  
  
“No, I think I’ll pass. It’s getting late. I think I’m going to go home.”  
  
“Would you like to stay over?” he asked and waited for her reply. Having heard nothing, he turned to find Sansa staring at him.  
  
“What do you mean?” she asked, brow raised and eyes narrowed.  
  
“I meant, would you like to stay in the spare bedroom? It’s getting kind of late and I would like it if you stayed. We could have breakfast tomorrow and you could go home. If you don’t want to, I could drive you home. It’s up to you.”  
  
She seemed to think about it a little. “But I don’t have any clothes here, Sandor. And your clothes were comfortable but they weren’t my s..”  
  
Sandor interrupted her before she could continue. “I got you some pajamas”  
  
She narrowed her eyes and looked at him for an explanation.  
  
Sandor cleared his throat and ran his hands through his hair. “I was hoping you’d stay over. So I got you something to wear. I got some toiletries as well. I just wanted you to be comfortable. It’s no pressure though, I’ll drive you home if you want.” He said and moved towards the entrance where his keys were kept.  
  
“No, its alright. I’d like to stay the night.” She said with a smile. “Is the offer for tea still on?” she asked.  
Sandor smiled and began making the beverage for them. He made Sansa tea and got himself a glass of water. He did not want to drink coffee before bed. He found Sansa in the living room, sitting on his couch. He gave her the tea and sat down next to him. Stranger climbed on the couch and laid his head on Sandor’s thigh and sprawled half on Sansa and began dozing off.  
  
“I have something I wanted to talk about.” Sansa said after a while.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“My dad called yesterday. He wanted to apologize. For whatever happened…the other day.” He saw her wince. She took a sip of the tea and continued. “He offered to send me money to help with expenses. If I take it, it’ll reduce pressure on you and we can contribute to expenses equally. So I wanted to let you know that I might take the money.”  
Sandor noticed that she wasn’t looking at him. That was very unlike Sansa.  
  
“Sansa, why do you want to accept the money?”  
  
“It’s unfair that you spend so much on the kid. I mean, I’m the parent too. I should also contribute to the cost. But I can’t, because of my salary. I hate feeling like a charity case. I don’t want to go around begging for other people to pay for my mistakes. So I will accept the money my father is willing to send and we can both make equal contribution.”  
  
Sandor took a deep breath.  
  
“So, this is about you not wanting to be a _charity case_ ?”  
  
“Well, yes…..”  
  
“Listen Sansa, if someone would have asked me five years ago, to contribute to the expenses of child rearing, I would have said no. I worked a shit job with shit pay with long hours. It’s only because I have this job now, that I am sure about my financial capabilities. You’re still young. Maybe with time, your pay will increase. You may even get promoted. You might transfer to another school. Who knows? Stop feeling so sorry for yourself.”  
  
He paused to make sure she was listening. When she nodded, he continued,  
  
“Look, you aren’t asking money to go shopping or for vacation or some stupid shit. This is about the child. Our child. I am spending on healthcare, medical expenses, diapers and medicines. These are not excesses, these are the basic things that the kid needs. Since I have more disposable income, I will contribute more. In five years’ time, when your career booms, you can contribute more. For now, let me do this.”  
  
He saw Sansa nod weakly.  
  
“And stop referring to Bean as a mistake. You need to let go of what your mother said.”  
  
“Okay” she said in a meek voice.  
  
A noise emerged from the couch and they looked down at Stranger, who was now snoring into oblivion. Sansa smiled at the dog and looked up at Sandor.  
  
“I just want you to know Sansa, you’re incredibly brave. It would have been a lot easier for you to terminate but for you to come knocking at my door, talk to me and try to raise a child with practically a stranger is a giant risk that I know not many people would have taken. It easy for your mother to boil you down as a selfish whore or whatever else she says but what you did, are doing, right now, sitting her with me and talking, this requires courage. You’re strong little bird, don’t let your mother get to you.”  
  
………………….  
  
Sandor and Sansa went off to sleep a while after their conversation the previous night. Sandor had to a carry a grumpy, sleepy dog to bed after which he gave Sansa her sleeping clothes and went to bed himself.  
  
The next morning, they both dressed early and went to a nearby café to grab some breakfast. They took Stranger out with them and the dog sat quietly beside Sansa with his head on her lap under the table.  
  
Sansa had told him at the café that she planned to not accept the money. She apparently did not want to feel indebted to her parents and wanted to contribute, in whatever capacity she could, on her own. Sandor respected her decision. They knew they had a lot of decisions to make. They needed to decide on insurance, doctors, child arrangements and a billion other things. But Sansa kept insisting that they need to take it slow. Sandor knew that there was no way they could make all the decisions together and the wisest choice would be to approach it all one by one.  
  
Their first agenda thus became doctor and insurance. They decided they would go to local clinics as long as no anomaly was present. If there was any problem that required them to consult a specialist, Sandor would use his insurance for that. They agreed to put each other on their list of emergency contacts. Sansa already had Arya on the list and Sandor had the Brother but they agreed that they both needed to be informed in case something happened. They also decided that they would look into health insurance schemes for the kid, with Sandor taking charge of that since he knew more about finance. Sansa had informed him that as long as she remained an employee, their kid would be able to get subsidized education in school. Most of their decisions however, relied on next week’s check-up. Sandor and Sansa agreed to meet at 6pm. Sandor was to pick Sansa from her apartment and they were to go to the clinic together.  
  
For now, Sandor drove her home. When they reached her apartment building, Sansa removed the seat belt and turned back to kiss Stranger on the snout. She waved at Sandor, promised to text him over the weekend and left.  
  
Sandor drove home, the music turned off. He could see Stranger staring out of the window with a miserable look on his face.  
  
When they reached home, Sandor dropped his keys on the counter with a clank. He got himself a cup of coffee, switched on the television and went around the house, doing chores.  
  
As the voices from the TV filtered through the room, he reflected on how much better this would have been if there was _someone else_ in the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 8: Sonogram and decisions. 
> 
> Stay tuned ;)


	8. Chapter Eight: Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first ultrasound and a wolf meets a dog.

She met Sandor outside her apartment.  
  
They had wanted to meet in the evening but the clinic had asked them to come in the afternoon. Sansa had to take a day off and Sandor left his job early and they both met up at 2 pm. They decided to meet and go to the clinic together and then have lunch.  
  
It was a cold day and even though the snow had stopped pouring for a week now, judging by the chill in the air, spring was few weeks away. She walked up to his car, bundled up inside a heavy sweater and a coat and even though she knew she would sit in a warm car through the ride and in a warm clinic room later, she did not want to risk feeling cold in the interim.  
  
She opened the door and sat inside. She turned to him and smiled and greeted him. They spoke throughout the car ride. He told her how he was being teased at the office for leaving works hours before he typically would. She wanted to apologize for calling him away but he quickly brushed her off.  
  
From what she had noticed about him, Sandor was an easy person to spend time with. From initial interaction, he would come off as grumpy and snarky. But spending time with him had made her realize how endearing he was. He cursed at his dog but would sit still as a statue to let his dog sleep over him and when his massive arms had cradled the dog with all the gentleness in the world, Sansa’s heart had melted a little. He checked up on her every morning and bought her tea to abate morning sickness. While he didn’t speak much, his gestures spoke volumes. He knew she had trouble with her family but did not force her to talk more than she was ready to. And when he had told her with trepidation in his eyes that he had hoped she would stay over and had gotten her overnight clothes, it had only firmed her belief in that he was a good man. He had stocked up the spare en suite with soaps, body wash, shampoo, conditioner, toothbrush and paste. She knew he didn’t have them the previous week and for him to go to such lengths to make her comfortable warmed her heart.  
  
She didn’t know what she felt about him. She cared for him, that was undisputed. She wanted to be his friend. He was such a good company and even if they weren’t planning to raise a child together, she would have still wanted them to be friends. The previous week, with his words, she had been able to reinforce her belief in her decision to keep the baby. She had vowed to herself that she would work hard and earn better and then in time, she would contribute equally for her child. She had been able to become confident enough to come home the next day to call her father to respectfully decline the money. He had told her he wanted to meet her. She had told him she would think about it.  
  
And now, she was on her way to the clinic. To get the first ultrasound, the first image of her baby. She looked at Sandor and beamed.  
  
This was finally happening. Her dream was coming true.  
  
………………….  
  
They sat in the waiting room, surrounded by women, pregnant on different levels.  
  
Some looked like they were going to give birth right there. Some were like her, at the early stages. Some were with partners, others alone. Sandor sat next to her, almost comically folded into the too tiny chair. They had been waiting for some time now and she could see Sandor growing impatient. He was still in his work clothes but sometime ago, he had taken his tie off, had unbuttoned the collar and rolled up his sleeves. She noticed him fidgeting and shake his leg. He kept checking his phone, even though there were no calls or texts. She knew he was panicking.  
  
“Do you want to meet my sister today?”  
  
His head whipped towards her.  
  
“What!” he exclaimed. Everyone around them turned towards them. So maybe Sansa’s plan at distraction wasn’t working too well. She smiled apologetically at the people around her and faced Sandor.  
  
“I was wondering if you wanted to come over after we get done here. I know we were planning to go and have food somewhere outside but instead you can come over and I will make lunch for us. You can meet Arya too. I am terrified she will scare you off but I think you’ll pull through.”  
  
Sandor _pfft_ ed at her.  
  
“Scared of your sister? Why? Is she a dragon?”  
  
“Worse.” Sansa rolled her eyes. How a 5”4 woman could be such a menace, she had no clue.  
  
“Why would you think she’d scare me?”  
  
“She will ask annoyingly intrusive questions. She knows about you and will likely ask for your gym routine or whatever. She’s small but she’s a spitfire. Do you know, in first grade, she came back home with the toothiest grin, a huge bruise on her knee, holding a teeth because she had punched it out of a boy? She claimed it to be her first victory and refused to let it go for a week straight.” As she kept talking, she realized that Sandor’s fidgeting had ceased. He began paying attention to her and his shoulders relaxed and fell from their stiff position.  
  
“Sansa Stark?” she heard the receptionist call. Sansa rose to her feet and picked up her bag from the side and saw Sandor struggling to get up on his feet. She smiled at him, took his arm and walked calmly towards the room the receptionist guided them to.  
  
Inside the room sat a woman, patiently waiting for them beside a bed.  
  
“Hello. You must be Miss Stark. I am Dr Malroy. Please have a seat.”  
  
“Hello doctor. This is Sandor Clegane. He’s the father.” She pointed at Sandor, who stood beside her like a lost puppy.  
  
“Hello Mister Clegane. You can take a seat at the head of the bed.”  
  
Sansa moved to keep her purse on the shelf by the door and hang her coat there. Sandor followed her lead and took his coat off. She went and placed herself on the bed and Sandor sat beside her.  
“Please lift your shirt”  
  
Sansa saw movement on her right and realized Sandor was undoing his buttons. She gave him a pointed stare and he shrugged at her, as if asking her _what_.  
  
“Not you. Me!” she hissed at him and smiled when the doctor turned towards them. The doctor looked at them and smiled. Sansa lifted her back off the table to pull her shirt up. She knew she would need to do this and had chosen to wear simple pants and a loose shirt. She lifted her shirt and unbuttoned her pants and lifted them down a little, exposing her belly. The doctor applied a gel on her stomach and Sansa hissed as cold air touched her tummy.  
  
The doctor then moved the scanner on her belly and Sansa found herself staring at the machine.  
  
“There” the doctor said and removed the wand and began pointing to the monitor. “There is your baby in the sack. There’s the head and there’s the body and that’s a cute little nose you can see. Looks about eight weeks now. That’s the arm.”  
  
Sansa followed each point of the doctor’s fingers with a keen eye and registered everything to her memory. This was her baby. _Her little baby_ , with a little nose and little arms and a big head and oh, she loved the baby so much more than she already did.  
  
The doctor took the wand back in her hand.  
  
“Now, this isn’t always abnormal, in case it doesn’t happen, but if I move the wand a little,” she said as she moved the wand, “ah. There. The heartbeat”  
Everything else faded into oblivion.  
  
She saw her baby move its tiny arms and all she could hear was the _wump wump wump_ of the heartbeat.  
  
Her entire being came down to this moment.  
  
All those years playing with her dolls, it was an inconsequential to hearing her child exist.  
  
Her child was breathing, it was living, it was growing, it was _hers_.  
  
“I will leave you two alone for a while. I will be back in ten minutes.” She heard someone murmur from the corner.  
  
For the longest time, Sansa kept staring at the monitor.  
  
And then she hear a sniffle.  
  
She turned to her right and saw two fat tears run down Sandor’s cheeks. The man noticed her staring and he turned to look at her.  
  
Her heart constricted.  
  
He had the look of devotion, love, endearment, excitement and nervousness in his eyes and she didn’t need a mirror to know she has the same look on her face. He smiled through his tears and she lent her hand forward for him to hold. He slipped his massive paws in her hand and they both turned back to the monitor, their tears flowing free across their face and the heartbeat of their child reverberating in the room.  
  
………………..  
  
They left the clinic with the picture of the sonogram tucked under their arms and the biggest smiles on their faces. Sandor wasn’t smiling, so much as not scowling or frowning. But Sansa could tell that he was happy.  
  
They drove up to Sansa’s house and on her insistence, Sandor agreed to join her for lunch.  
  
Compared to Sandor’s expansive house, with sleek furniture and beige walls, Arya’s apartment was cosier and more personalized. There was no rhyme or pattern to the furniture. Most of the things were bought off craigslist and Sansa enjoyed that even though everything in the house came from different places, they harmonized together. The door opened to a living room with a kitchen to the right and two rooms to the far end side. It wasn’t much but it had been Sansa’s home for months now.  
  
When she opened the door, she could already hear her sister’s loud music blaring behind the doors. She braced herself for introducing Sandor to her little sister.  
  
“Hey. Hows the little Bean…. Whoa, who is this big guy?”  
  
Sansa saw the exact moment her sister spotted Sandor behind her because her eyes grew comically large and the broom she was holding fell down promptly.  
  
“Arya, meet Sandor Clegane. Sandor, meet Arya. I take no responsibility for whatever happens from here on.”  
  
Sandor looked mildly amused at her sister and Arya looked positively thrilled.  
  
Sansa sighed and closed the door, encasing them in the house.  
  
“So, you’re the ugly mutt who knocked up my sister?” Arya said, approaching Sandor.  
  
“Arya!” Sansa chastised.  
  
“What? It’s a good thing. You’ve always been such a prude and you’ve always wanted a baby. He sped things up for you. That’s a good man’s work right there.”  
  
Sansa rubbed her temple. She regretted everything already. Sandor was still standing beside the door, observing everything.  
  
“Have a seat on the couch, Sandor. I’ll get you some water.”  
  
Sandor made his way to the couch and Arya plopped herself next to him.  
  
“You look like a mean fella. You know how to beat someone up good and proper?”  
  
Sansa was about to reprimand her sister from the kitchen when she heard Sandor speak.  
  
“Aren’t you a little too small to be talking about beating people up?”  
  
Sansa handled Sandor a glass of water and narrowed her eyes at Arya.  
  
“I am making lunch. You both behave.”  
  
She walked towards the kitchen. She could hear Sandor and Arya argue about the advantages and disadvantages of height and weight when it came to fighting.  
“Yes but me being small, I can just sneak up on someone and stab them. Fly down towards them from the back and they wouldn’t even see me coming and then I would stab them right in the gut.”  
  
“Don’t be stupid. You can’t just sneak up on someone like that. They can hear you. Besides, when you’re big, half the fight is won if you can intimidate your opponent.”  
  
“But if you’re small, you can fool your opponent into thinking that you can’t do anything and just when they buy the act, you can stab ‘em”  
  
“What is with you and stabbing? You know it’s illegal to stab people, yeah?”  
  
Sansa smiled at their banter.  
  
Sansa was never a social butterfly. Between school and classes, she didn’t have much time to hang out with friends. She had always seen Arya bringing home her strange friends. Even when Sansa moved in with Arya, she would see her sister hang out with her own friends. Sansa herself never had anyone to bring home and introduce to her family. After breaking up with Harry and moving past that high society lifestyle, Sansa was forced to face the reality of the fact that there weren’t many people in her life she could rely on. She never had a _true_ friend. And watching Arya find good friends made Sansa feel emptier. Now, she had someone who she knew was her friend, if not more. She knew she could call Sandor if she faced any trouble and she was sure he would come to her rescue. He’d already done that once, hadn’t he?  
  
Sansa didn’t know if her and Sandor were … more than friends.  
  
Back in the clinic, she had felt something between them. Holding hands and listening to their chid _live_ was an experience unlike any other. He cared for her, that she was sure of. And she knew she reciprocated those feelings. But whether it was _love_ or not, she was conflicted about. Before any of this, he was a one night stand for her, just a physical catalyst of her emotions. Nothing more. But fate had forced them to come together for the sake of their child and now they were growing closer. Their major concern and top priority was the child.  
  
Sansa did not want to do something that would bring them at odds with each other. The falling out would affect the child and that wouldn’t do good for anyone.  
  
So for now, Sandor was just a friend for her.  
  
…………………  
  
Lunch went better than Sansa would have anticipated.  
  
She would have thought that Arya would annoy Sandor to his last bone but Sandor was just as snarky with her sister. For every mean comment that Arya made, Sandor replied with equal callousness. Watching those two interact was like watching kids fight. It made no sense and it was absolutely adorable. At one point, Arya tried punching Sandor’s back repeatedly and all he said was “a little lower, wolf. My back has been killing me and the massage is so relaxing.” The entire afternoon was filled with laughs and banter. At some point, Sansa had to run interference with her sister but it turned out that Sandor could hold his own. They finished lunch and sat together in the living room. Sansa and Sandor sat on the too small couch and Arya lay sprawled out on the floor. At some point, Arya switched on the television and put Friends on and the three of them watched a few episodes. When their stomachs began grumbling, Arya crawled over to the table and got a Chinese takeout menu and passed it along. The menu was passed and all of them named their order which was then relegated to the restaurant. By the time another episode could finish, there was a knock on the door. Sansa got up to answer the door and took the food inside and asked the delivery man to wait. She went in to get her purse and by the time she came out, Sandor was closing the door. He smiled at her and told her he had paid for the bill. Before Sansa could even start complaining, her sister began asking, (screaming, more like) for the food. Sandor walked past her with the bag of food in his hand and Sansa had no option but to follow him. They sat and began passing the food around. Arya switched the channel a while later and they began watching The Office. At that point, it didn’t even matter which sitcom was on the TV. All she cared about was the company. Sandor kept stealing Arya’s spring rolls and kept trying to avoid getting slapped away by her. Even though she kept complaining about the “giant dog eating everything”, she never moved the container from the spot and Sansa smiled at them. She knew that if her sister truly didn’t want anyone to take what was hers, she’d murder them for it. Sansa liked the fact that Sandor was becoming good in Arya’s books.  
  
Eventually, Sansa finished eating and began growing drowsy. She found herself curling in the arm of the couch. Her eyes keep drooping and after a while, she lost the fight and dozed off.  
  
She was jolted awake by movement.  
  
“Sorry.”  
  
The voice came from above her. She flung her hand up to catch the voice and found a roughness. Her fingers flattened on the surface and she explored the texture.  
  
Bumpy. Uneven. Scarred.  
  
_Sandor?_  
  
She realized she was moving. But her legs weren’t working. She tried shifting. She was in someone’s arms. A trunk under her legs and another under her back. Trunks? Arms?  
  
She brushed her cheeks against the surface they were touching. Why were they so firm?  
  
“’S f’rm” she mumbled with a pout. Pillows were supposed to be soft. Why was her pillow so firm? It was firm but it was comfortable. It smelled nice too. She curled her arms around his neck and lifted her head closer to his body. He smelled so nice and she wanted to burrow into him.  
  
The arms under her moved and she felt herself being deposited on the bed. A pillow, her soft pillow was placed under her head and a warm, fluffy blanket enveloped her body.  
  
The arms began leaving her. _NO!_. He couldn’t leave her like that.  
  
She searched for something to hold and grabbed his shirt. She felt a weight bring down the mattress on her side and realized that he was sitting next to her. She turned to the side and fought to open her eyes. In the darkness of her room, she couldn’t see much of him beside his silhouette. She did not let go off his shirt and kept grabbing on to it.  
  
Big hands moved to smooth back her hair. She smiled at the gentleness of the touch and turned her head slightly to kiss the inside of the palm. The hand stayed there and patted her hair for a while and Sansa nudged the pillow. She could feel herself falling asleep. His hands pried hers away from his shirt.  
  
She felt him kiss her forehead and whisper _Night little birdie_ and she smiled, already falling asleep quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clarification: I have added a slow burn tag. I don't want the characters to meet in one chapter and immediately start (as Jake Peralta eloquently puts it) smooshing booties. I want to establish a connection and there will be snippets of love here and there and the mature/explicit content will follow soon but for the next few chapters, its going to be GA stuff. Hope that's alright with y'all.
> 
> Update: Ch6 previously mentioned that they would take a sonogram on week 5. A little snooping told me that heartbeat can be heard starting week 8 so I changed that bit a little. My search history will make anyone believe I'm pregnant lol :P  
> Sorry for the mistake. x


	9. Chapter Nine: Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor takes Sansa to meet someone special.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a version of this chapter that I didn't like so I took some time off, recouped and wrote it all again. 
> 
> Don't read the end notes if you haven't seen 8*05

Sandor’s mind kept wandering.  
  
It had been a week since the sonogram.  
  
He had known he was going to be a parent. He knew there was a baby growing in Sansa’s womb. He knew that in approximately 7 months or so, he would be responsible for another human being. But all of that _knowing_ was very different from having _seen_ his baby.  
  
For an initial minute, he hadn’t been able to tell anything about the baby from the monitor. It was all black and white and grey goop. And then the doctor had pointed it out and it had all made sense. And now, having stared at it for long hours, where the picture rested in a frame on his kitchen counter, Sandor could almost draw the sonogram from memory. He knew just how big the head was and just how prominent the spine was. It was all new and wonderful to him. He had never seen a sonogram. On movies and shows, sure. But never one in person. Now all he wanted to do was have Sansa lie on table, the wand over the tiny bump she was spotting and for the monitor to keep playing his child’s heartbeat.  
  
“Mr Clegane, what is the quotation that VIC is offering?”  
  
_Earth to Sandor._  
  
Right.  
  
Board meeting.  
  
A bunch of grey haired, sad old sacks of human excuse sat around the table. They were discussing closure on the deal offered by VIC. Sandor was supposed to make valuable contribution to the meeting and instead he was lost in thought. He cleared his throat and focused back on the meeting, sparing a brief glance towards the clock on the wall.  
  
4 pm.  
  
Three hours and he could go back home and stare at the picture.  
  
………………  
  
Sandor and Sansa had spent the previous weekend together.  
  
On Saturday, they had met with the gynaecologist at the clinic who told them that the next sonogram would be around the 20th week. She told them that unless there was an emergency, Sansa wouldn’t need a sonogram until then. Sandor had to admit, he was slightly disappointed at that. He wanted to hear the child’s heartbeat again and to have to wait 12 weeks until he could do that again was pure torture.  
  
Sansa and he had then had lunch outside, after which Sansa had come over to spend the night at Sandor’s. He had been happy to have her over and Stranger, too, was over the moon.  
Sunday found them lounging in the living room, Sansa curled up with Stranger, watching some old romantic movie and Sandor sitting on the table with his laptop, finishing his report on the VIC deal. It was a mundane and quite day and Sandor did not mind it one bit.  
  
Once in a while, in the middle of working on the report, he would look up and watch Sansa sprawled on the couch, a blanket thrown over her legs and Stranger tucked in the crook of her arms. As he kept typing his report, he could hear Sansa convince Stranger that Hugh Grant was the epitome of British romantic movies and why Notting Hill was one of the most meaningful movies she had ever seen. At one point, Sansa got up to make some tea and made Sandor a cup of coffee and placed it near his laptop and walked back to the couch, not before she ruffled his hair and squeezed his shoulder gently. The domesticity of the lazy Sunday afternoon warmed his heart. It was gratifying to know there were people besides him in the house, who were doing their own thing, but were keeping him company.  
  
After a home cooked lunch, they went out on a walk around the park. It hadn’t snowed for a few days now but there was a slight chill in the air. Sansa looked outright adorable in her oversized jacket, hiding underneath layers of clothing. Stranger walked quietly beside Sandor. They sat at a bench in the park and Sansa placed herself usually close to Sandor, her arm tucked under his. It was cold and she probably needed warmth, and Sandor didn’t complain at being used as a portable heater, so he brushed it off and didn’t let the gesture overwhelm him. He unhooked Stranger’s leash and let the dog run around wildly.  
  
In the silence that befell, Sandor reflected on the week. He had dreaded meeting Sansa’s sister. Her parents reacted aversely to her pregnancy without even taking a look at the father. He knew her sister was aware of the baby but she didn’t know what Sandor looked like. He did not want Sansa to lose another family member for whom she chose to sleep with and consequently, raise a child with. But the spitfire of a sister didn’t even seem to care. All she wanted was tips of fighting, sparring and body building. He wasn’t sure whether he should be concerned, scared or proud of the girl. Considering that she hadn’t murdered anyone _yet_ , he was impassive to her violent tendencies.  
  
Given that he had met her family, or at least a part of it, he thought it was only fair that she meet his.  
  
“Would you like to meet the Elder Brother?” Sandor asked for sitting in silence for a while.  
  
“Who is the Elder Brother?”  
  
“He’s um… He’s an old friend. From the army. He lives in the city. I meet him sometimes.”  
  
“You were in the army? I didn’t know that.” Sansa said before continuing. “Does he know about me and the baby?”  
  
“Yeah. He’s the only one who knows.”  
  
“Alright. I’d like to meet him.” she said with a smile.  
  
And that’s how they found themselves knocking at the Elder Brother’s door with packets of food in their hand.  
  
The old man opened the door and greeted them. Sandor knew the man didn’t do much on weekends. He only had to call the Brother to confirm that he was free and then he and Sansa dropped Stranger at the apartment, stopped at a restaurant to pick up food and drove over.  
  
“Hello, Sandor. Come in.”  
  
As Sandor walked in, the man noticed Sansa standing behind him. Until Sandor had moved, she was completely hidden by his visage and now that she was visible, the old man smiled at her. Sansa stepped in the house and handed the Brother the unnecessarily expensive bottle of wine she insisted on buying for the man.  
  
“Hello. You must be the Elder Brother. I am Sansa Stark. I am Sandor’s…..” she paused and looked at Sandor for help but he was just as clueless about their relationship, or lack thereof. She seemed to collect herself and spoke again. “I am Sandor’s friend. It is a pleasure to meet you.”  
  
“Oh. Stop the nonsense with the formalities. I am Elder Brother to him but to you, I’m Ray. Make yourself comfortable in the living room. I have so much to talk to you about. I have to learn a lot about my grandchild’s mother.”  
  
The man beamed at her and Sansa ducked her head with a blush. Sandor smiled at the old man fondly and led Sansa to the living room while the Brother went to the kitchen to keep the food away and store the wine in the fridge.  
  
They took off their coats and hung them on a rack. The room was warm and lit by the fireplace and Sandor seated himself on the couch farthest away from the fireplace. Sansa sat next to him and the Brother served them drinks (wine for Sandor and lemon juice for Sansa) soon joined them on the adjoining couch.  
  
“Sandor tells me you teach the first grade?”  
  
And that sent them off to a long conversation about their work. The Brother mentioned his work at the VA and Sansa offered the idea of having some of the soldiers and staff from the VA over to the school for an interactive session between the students and the war veterans. They launched into a long drawn discussion about the planning and Sandor sipped on his glass of wine and sat back and watch the two people in his life bond over their newfound interest.  
  
The whole evening was filled with banter and laugh as the Brother recounted embarrassing stories of Sandor in the army. The man told Sansa about the time a drunk Sandor came very close to burying a fellow soldier alive when he found out that the said soldier had eaten all the chicken that Sandor was saving for himself. Sansa told the Brother of how her sister, twelve years younger than the man, kept fighting with Sandor like kindergarteners. That led the Brother to teasing Sandor to join one of Sansa’s classes and that _maybe then a fine teacher like her could teach you some etiquettes, Sandor._  
  
Whenever Sandor would get affronted about the jokes that were made about him, he would furrow his brows, wrinkle his nose and jut his lip out like a child. Sansa would reach over to him and put a hand on his arm and tell him _oh don’t be so offended Sandor, we’re just teasing_.  
  
After dinner, Sansa asked the Brother to show her where the toilet was. The man led her to the end of the hallway and came to the kitchen and stood next to the fridge, observing Sandor. The man was washing the dishes, his half empty glass of wine sitting next to him on the sink.  
  
“I like her. She seems nice.” The old man told Sandor in a whisper, as if telling him a secret.  
  
Sandor smiled and continued cleaning the dishes. “Yeah, she’s great.”  
  
Sandor felt the brother place his hand on Sandor’s arm and the man stopped with his task midway, a dish in one hand and the sponge in another. The Brother was never very physically affectionate with him. Given that they knew each other from the army, there was a hierarchy to their relationship, no matter how close the man considered the Brother to be. Sandor’s eyes narrowed at the man, who was looking at him with a wisdom of a thousand sages.  
  
“She is good for you, Sandor. I have never seen you this content. Now, I don’t want to intrude and I don’t know relationship you want to form with her, but keep that woman close to you. Whatever you both are, there is room for growth and I know how easily you tend to dismiss things but this isn’t that, Sandor.”  
  
Sandor kept staring at the man. He didn’t know what to say. He felt the man’s hand slip away from his arm and saw as the Elder Brother’s smile widened and he said,  
  
“I am happy for you, Sandor.” Before he turned and walked away to the living room, leaving a bewildered Sandor at his wake.  
  
……………….  
  
The evening had ended with the Brother and Sansa exchanging numbers and promising to keep in touch. Sandor had driven Sansa home and come till her doorstep to drop her. After an awkward wave of hands, they had parted ways. A few days later, Sansa had texted him and told him that she would be meeting with her father on Friday. He apparently wanted to take Sansa out on lunch. Sansa asked if Sandor had any plans for Saturday and if she could come over to meet him if the lunch with her father with sideways. Sandor had been quick to assure her that he was willing to spend time her with regardless of whether the lunch with her father turned to be a success or not. That, unfortunately meant that he had nothing better to do in the weekend. He spent his Friday evening at a bar with his colleagues. Davos took them all out for a drink for closing the deal with VIC. They all turned up to the bar late, almost around 10 pm, given that most of them were wrapping up their paperwork for the deal. While everyone ordered something or the other to drunk, mostly exorbitant stuff, like Tormund had, considering that Davos was paying, Sandor stuck of a glass of Vodka tonic that he spent over half an hour nursing. Surrounded by loud music and drunk, sweaty bodies, he suddenly began missing home. The thrill of getting drunk and sleeping around somehow seemed to have lost its charm and Sandor found himself getting back into his car within two hour of arriving at the bar.  
  
As he drove, he reflected on how much he preferred his peaceful, content weekend as opposed to his previous tirade of getting drunk and spending the next two days nursing a hangover.  
  
………………  
  
_Sirens._  
  
Why was there so much noise around him?  
  
Where was he?  
  
What was happening?  
  
A bright light.  
  
A _very _bright light being pointed right into his eyes.__  
  
The fuck?  
  
“Sir? Sir, can you hear me?”  
  
What was that pain?  
  
Why was his head exploding?  
  
_Was his head actually exploding?_  
  
Too loud.  
  
Someone needed to turn off those damned sirens.  
  
“All units, we got a 480 on Bosquet Avenue”  
  
The fuck was happening?  
  
As his mind faded into darkness, he saw black, white and grey, floating together, merging, obscuring and separating, forming the image he came to know by heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooooooh cliffhanger. ;)
> 
> Regarding 8*05, even though, in my mind show Sandor and book Sandor are little different, my boy deserved better. He deserved better than to jump in a pit of fire, something he has been scared of since childhood. He went out in the most heroic way and died knowing that he saved his little murder-child. Also, Rory McCann deserves more respect as an actor. I hope show Sandor is eating plenty of chicken up in heaven and I hope he meets his sister there <3


	10. Chapter Ten: Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa meets with her father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the hits and the comments an the kudos and the bookmark. 
> 
> I can't believe y'all like my subpar writing. Y'all are too sweet and I am sending out love and happiness to each and every one of you. x

Sansa sat at the booth waiting for her father.  
  
He was supposed to meet her after dropping Bran at the physiotherapist’s office. For most part, her brother would have sessions at home but once in two weeks, he would have to come to the main office to use some of the equipment. A hiking accident had caused Bran to lose complete control of his legs but the doctors insisted that he practice few leg exercises at the cost of losing mobility of all his limbs. Moreover, modern technology was taking rapid leaps and her parents never gave up hope that someday Bran could walk again, either by a miracle or by the help of modern technology. She knew Bran had gotten accustomed to his lifestyle and did not let it hinder him but he went along with the physiotherapist for the sake of his parent’s happiness.  
  
She sipped on the lemon tea she had ordered and checked her emails. She had one from the VA, confirming the date for the interactive sessions between the soldiers and the students. She was really excited about the project. When she spoke about it with the principal, the woman encouraged Sansa’s pursuit. She knew that for Olenna Tyrell, the main concern was not that the students got an opportunity to interact with a group of people that many hadn’t met before, it was that the school would receive recognition for its innovative ideas. Mrs Tyrell was already planning to call several reporters to the school on the day to cover the events. Even though Sansa had wanted it to be an intimate affair, with the soldiers and students interacting one on one, sharing stories and anecdotes and the children gaining an appreciation for the people who fought for their country, she agreed to whatever her superiors said. She did not have enough influence in the school to be able to get her way and she could only hope that coming up with initiatives would keep her in her superior’s good books.  
  
She had to admit that she also wanted to meet some of the people from the VA and get a glimpse into Sandor’s past life. When he had told her about the military, he had been very guarded. He had only told her that he worked there for a while and then left after being injured. Ray had only recounted some of the funny incidents from his time in the military. She knew that what they did on the missions were not supposed to a part of the dinner table conversation, but she would have liked to know more about Sandor’s time in the military.  
  
It wasn’t as if he didn’t tell her about his life. He did, but only to a limited extent. For most part, it would be Sansa leading their conversation and contributing to the majority of it. Sandor shared information about his work life but as far as she understood, he wasn’t very close to his colleagues and was very, very passionate about his work. He was guarded, closed off and she respected his personal space but sometimes she wish she knew more about him.  
  
Getting to know Ray had been a breakthrough though. Maybe she could conspire with the man to spill Sandor’s secrets. She smiled at the thought.  
  
Ray had been a very courteous host. He had been the first insight to Sandor’s private life. She always shared stories of her siblings with him and he had even met her sister. But all she ever heard from Sandor was the names of the people in his life. There was a Tormund guy who got on his never, someone named Brom who annoyed him and came off as a bit cocky, Davos and Beric who seemed to be the dad friend of the group. But she had been glad to finally have met one of the people he spoke about. Ray had seemed to genuinely care about Sandor and it warmed her heart to know that someone was looking out for him.  
  
When she was done using the toilet in Ray’s house, she had heard the man speak to Sandor.  
  
_\- don’t want to intrude and I don’t know relationship you want to form with her, but keep that woman close to you. Whatever you both are, there is room for growth and I know how easily you tend to dismiss things but this isn’t that, Sandor._  
  
She didn’t know if Sandor responded to the comment. She was busy hiding behind the wall, trying to make sense of what was going on in the kitchen.  
  
Introducing herself as Sandor’s _friend_ felt inadequate. She hoped that she was more than a friend to him. She knew she should analyse their relationship properly, but between navigating the pregnancy and her work, Sansa did not want to dwell too much on something that could potentially change the status quo of the arrangement she had made with him.  
  
So, she let it be.  
  
Her eyes picked up movement outside and peered out of the window she was sitting next to. She could see her father get out of the car and walk towards the entrance of the diner.  
  
Eddard Stark was a formidable presence. In his jeans and his brown trench coat, he practically filled out the entrance of the diner as he walked in. His gaze moved around the space and he smiled in recognition when he saw Sansa. As he walked towards her, she slipped out of the booth and stood firmly in her place, resisting the urge to run up to him. She had lived away from her parents for a while now, but seeing her father always bought out the child in her, who wanted to run up to her father and knew that he would lift her and twirl her around.  
  
“Sansa, my love.” He said as he walked up to her and hugged her, almost too tight and lifting her off the floor by an inch. Sansa melted in the embrace and found herself clutching to her father. She could never be mad at her father for too long, especially when he had called her a dozen times, profusely apologizing each of the time.  
  
When they separated, they took their place on the booth. A waitress came up to them and took their order. Their orders were always the same. Cheesy burgers, spicy fries and unlimited serving of coke. It was far from healthy and unlike anything that they ate at home but coming here was her and her father’s little secret. Her mother would be absolutely livid at the amount of carbs they were consuming but this was their guilty pleasure. It was meant for Sansa only and growing up in a house crowded by six other kids, a three hour monthly meeting over greasy food was greatly appreciated by her.  
  
“You are glowing Sansa. You look absolutely beautiful.” Her father smiled at her kindly.  
  
Sansa tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. “Thanks, Dad. How have you been?”  
  
“Oh good enough. Work’s getting hectic. I think I will retire in a few years though. Robb is well established in the company and I have had this job for too long now. I think it’s time to sit back and relax.” Her father explained his emotions by actually leaning back in his both and splaying his arms on the back of the seat.  
  
“That’s good Dad. You do need a break. Maybe you and Mother can go on a long vacation after.”  
  
“Oh, it’s just retirement. Doesn’t mean I’m free of all responsibilities. Rickon is still in school and Bran still requires care. I will be happy to be able to spend more time with my family, though.” Her father smiled at the thought.  
  
The waitress arrived with their food and placed it in front of them. Sansa could smell the plastic of the cheese and could see the grease from the patty and the caramelized onion. She couldn’t wait to bite into the fries that looked red and which she knew, would give her a heartburn and would make her reach for the coke every minute or so. She looked up at her father who was grinning at her, excited about their secret indulgence. They bit into the burger and groaned at the taste. It had been so long since they had come here and Sansa almost forgot how sinfully delicious the food was. She laughed at her father when he took a bite and immediately began searching for tissues that could wipe away the evidence of the burger from his shirt.  
  
“How is the pregnancy progressing?” her father asked after a while.  
  
Her father had been very cautious over the phone, trying not to address the elephant in the room when talking to her. Him bringing it up now caught her off the guard. She took a healthy sip of her drink and wiped her mouth and spoke,  
  
“It’s going well. Morning sickness isn’t so bad anymore.” She tried to be evasive but with her father looking at her expectantly, she folded. “We, um, went to a sonogram last week. Saw the baby. Heard its heartbeat.” She swallowed the dam of emotion that was threaten to burst. It had been a week but thinking about the magical moment made her emotional.  
  
Her father smiled wistfully. Having five kids of his own, he must have known a thing or two about pregnancy excitement.  
  
“I remember your heartbeat. So fragile and quick. Almost like you were trying to run somewhere in that little womb. Mistook you for a boy almost.”  
  
Sansa smiled at her father. “It was the most magical thing I have ever heard.” She admitted carefully.  
  
“Aye, it truly is. The thrill of it, five times over, was pretty exciting.”  
  
“I can only imagine.”  
  
“Do you have a picture? Of the sonogram?” her father asked cautiously, as if bracing for rejection.  
  
Sansa smiled and picked up the phone. She opened her gallery and handed the phone to her father. She saw as he held the tiny object of scrutiny in his large hands, holding it at different lengths and examining the image. After a while, he handed it back to Sansa and when she looked into his eyes, they were glowing.  
  
“My first grandchild.” He whispered softly.  
  
She knew Robb and Talisa were not trying to conceive. They had married a year ago and Talisa’s career as a doctor was still on the rise. She knew they were waiting for the right moment in their career before having children.  
  
Sansa had instead done an _oopsie_ (Sandor’s reminder of not calling Bean a “mistake” was omnipresent on her mind) and had become pregnant before any of her other siblings.  
She heard her father clear his throat and saw him look at her with his eyes narrowed.  
  
She knew the question even before he asked it.  
  
“Tell me about the father.”  
  
“Sandor is a CFO for a big company, Westerlands Inc. He didn’t initially want to have a child but now he’s warming up to the thought – “  
  
“Sandor Clegane of Westerlands Inc?” her father asked, wide eyed.  
  
“Yes. Do you know him?”  
  
“Know him? Sansa! He controls the finance and account of the largest company in the country. I have heard of him. Doesn’t he have a scarred face?” her father asked the last question slowly, with a raised brow.  
  
“Yes Dad, he has a scar extending from his left jaw to the temple. I think he’s gotten a bit of reconstruction done, but it still looks a little gnarly. He’s still handsome though.”  
  
“I will have to take your word for it.”  
  
Sansa smiled and they continued eating. She told him a little more about Sandor, her meeting with Ray and the initiative with the VA. Her father shared some stories about Rickon and how the boy may have started smoking cigarettes. Sansa knew her parents struggled with raising their youngest. They were growing old and weary and were always preoccupied with Bran and Rickon was always part wildling. Neither of them discussed her mother and Sansa knew that bringing her into the conversation would ruin the mood. She desperately wanted to know if her mother had asked about her or even knew about this lunch but she stopped herself from asking anything. It was nice to meet her dad and spend some time bonding and with everything going well around them, she didn’t want to do anything to ruin the atmosphere.  
  
Once they were done with lunch, Sansa accompanied her father in picking up Bran from the office. Her father then drove them to Arya’s apartment where Bran and Ned would meet the little devil and then go back home. Her father and brother ended up staying pretty late and between sipping on hot chocolate, the clock turned to 7 without any of them noticing. Her father then checked his phone and saw eight missed calls from Catelyn and ushered Bran into the car and braced himself for Catelyn Stark’s wrath once he reached home.  
  
Sansa and Arya ended up having grilled veggies and chicken at home and were lying down on the living room floor, propped on pillows and talking when Sansa’s phone rang.  
  
**Ray**  
  
She picked up the phone.  
  
“Hello, Ray. How are you?”  
  
“Sansa. There has been an accident.” The man seemed like he was panting and Sansa immediately shot up.  
  
“Sandor? Is he alright?”  
  
“He’s stable. They got him to the hospital quickly. He’s in recovery. I was the primary emergency contact so I came as soon as I just wanted to call you and let you know.”  
  
“Which hospital?” Sansa asked, already pulling her jacket from the hook behind the door. Arya stood up and began looking for the keys to her bike. Sansa hated riding that death machine but at this hour, it was the best option at getting to the Metropolitan General Hospital.  
  
She spoke to Ray and found out more information and then hung up. Without a word, Arya led her out, tucked into a jacket and carrying their wallet and keys. They walked to the bike in silence and drove off to the hospital.  
  
As Sansa clutched Arya with a death grip, she began to feel bile rise in her throat.  
  
She didn’t want to lose Sandor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got so hungry while writing that diner part x(


	11. Chapter Eleven: Elder Brother/ Ray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of back story into Ray's life and a look into the aftermath of the accident.

As an old widower, he did not have much to live for.  
  
When he was young, he had a purpose. Initially it had been the army, and then later, Sophia. She was the light of his life. He had met her on one of his trips back home and the love had been instant and all-consuming. The next trip, he had come back with a ring and a proposal ready on his mind, and found her to be already wed. She was coerced by her family and he didn’t fault her for not having a say over a situation she had no control over. He had gone to her wedding, congratulated her husband and gone off to his next trip. He had thought that was the end of a hope of love in his life. And then he had met Adeline. She wasn’t his _the one_ , but that did not mean he didn’t love her. Ray gave her his love, the best he knew how to and she did the same. She never admitted that he was the love of her life and neither did he. They lived happily and cordially and when she fell sick and died, Ray felt more the lack of a companion than a lover. She was his life partner, a constant presence in his life for over two decades, someone waiting back at home every time he returned from the army. With her gone, he lost a friend.  
  
Soon after her death, he dedicated himself to the VA. He saw what war did to young soldiers and he wanted to do his part to help as many people as he could. Soon enough, with his experience and wisdom, he was in charge of the local office. Since then, the people from the VA had been his friends.  
  
That, of course, was not counting one Sandor Clegane, who became a protégé of sorts in the army.  
  
He saw Sandor for what he was – a young boy, hiding behind the façade of hatred and anger. A young _hurt_ boy.  
  
When he had joined the army, he was barely eighteen. He had probably signed up on his eighteenth birthday and shipped out soon after. Him, with his long stature, his gnarly scars made a formidable presence. He stayed far away from any of his colleagues and appeared during lunch or dinner time, piled a plate high with meat, and scurried away to a corner to eat by himself. While the rest of the men would use the time to share jokes and bond, the young boy would tear away at his food and leave almost as soon as he came. Ray began sitting next to the man. Noticing his presence, Sandor would sometimes switch the table and Ray would simply pick up his tray and follow him to wherever he moved. Sandor would glare at him and Ray broke the silence one day by saying,  
  
“You might think everyone here buys this whole scary guy persona but I don’t. Also, I outrank you several times over, do not glare at me, young man.”  
  
Sandor had accepted his presence with a huff and the rest, as they said, was history.  
  
The man didn’t change, not at all. He just became more open with Ray. And Ray liked his company. He was young but he was more pragmatic and a better strategist than some of the corporals and sergeants he knew. He often took ideas from the young man, executed them and credited their success to the man. Sandor hated being praised and hated it more when an entire room of soldiers would cheer and holler for him but by the time he left the army, he was a Master Sergeant. He earned his titles more through his work than his tenure.  
  
Their friendship had retained beyond the days of the military. It was refreshing to watch Sandor use his capabilities to use in a world outside violence. He was clever and smart, humble about his abilities, and very quick to sniff lies and falsities. Ray was proud to see the man achieve the position he was in today. Ray knew how much the man earned and it endeared him that Sandor still chose to live in a simple way.  
  
The recent twist in his life and the way Sandor handled it, make Ray feel extremely proud of how far the man came from being a social recluse, angry at life to someone who accepted his actions and rose to the take responsibility of the situation when it called for his attention.  
  
The recent turn of events had thrilled Ray. He was apprehensive of what Sandor would do when the young man brought it up first but then Sandor seemed to have it under control and there was going to be a little _baby Clegane_. The thought warmed Ray’s old, lonely heart.  
  
He had loved meeting Sansa. She was a young, capable woman, with so much potential. When she had spoken about her job, he could see the enormous amount of love she wore on her sleeve, such a contrast to Sandor’s reclusiveness. He instantly knew that their contradictory characters would be the first spark between the both. Her gently laying a hand on his arm or looking at Sandor once in a while reinforced Ray’s belief. The man hoped both of them would sort things out sooner, rather than later.  
  
No one was growing young here, especially not him.  
  
And with Sandor’s life’s new development, came more purpose for Ray. Now he had a little kid to look forward to. Adeline and him hadn’t been able to conceive and they had accepted the idea of a childless existence but now Ray would find himself occasionally thinking of the role he would have in the kid’s life. He knew Sansa had parents but he was the only family from Sandor’s side.  
He wanted to call dibs on being _Pops_.  
  
…………………….  
  
When his phone rang out in the middle of the night, Ray was groggy from sleep but shot off the bed the minute the person on the other side claimed to have been calling from the hospital and said that Sandor was injured.  
  
Sandor had told him years ago that he was the primary contact for Sandor’s emergencies and ever since, Ray had kept a file of all the information he had on the young man. Ray got dressed immediately, pulled the file out from his wardrobe, grabbed a bottle of water, his medicines for the morning, keys and wallet and was out of the door in ten minutes.  
  
When he reached the hospital, Sandor was already in surgery.  
  
It had been a hit and run. The driver had two other people in the previous intersection, one of them being gravely injured. The woman was apprehended twelve blocks away and was apparently way over the alcohol limit. Sandor’s car was hit on the impact and had turned and fallen sideways to where Sandor was seated. He had cuts and injury on his left leg and arm, with his arm being more gravely injured. His head was hit and was bleeding and the doctors were currently trying to understand if it was a serious injury. All things considered, the paramedics had said, that Sandor wasn’t in too much trouble. For now, the head injury was the main concern.  
  
Ray had sat on the hospital bench after handing over a file of Sandor’s documents to the policemen.  
  
For a while, he just sat and focused on breathing.  
  
Sandor was more than someone he had met in the army. He was more than an understudy. He had come to mean so much to Ray.  
  
When Sandor had opened up about his family to Ray, the man had vowed solemnly that he would guide the boy in a way his own father had been unable to. To see such a hurt, young man grow to an accomplished, successful man had been the biggest achievement of Ray’s life. And now, fighting for his life in that operating table, covered in cuts and bruises, Sandor became a child for Ray again and at that moment, all he wanted to do was take the child, shield him and protect him.  
  
But he couldn’t do any of that.  
  
He checked his phone for the time and saw a notification about an email from Sansa Stark.  
  
_Sansa!_  
  
She was a secondary emergency contact but she wouldn’t have been informed once Ray responded.  
  
He dialled her number and held his breath, waiting for her response.  
  
_“Hello, Ray. How are you?”_  
  
He winced at the cheerful greeting.  
  
He hated being the bearer of bad news.  
  
………………..  
  
Half an hour later and he could see a red head and a shorter, raven haired woman move towards him.  
  
Sansa looked distraught. She was crying by the time she even walked to Ray and she looked out of place in her pajamas and shirt, with a parka jacket on. It was a Friday night. She must have been relaxing at home and must have come as soon as he called. She walked up to him and Ray opened his arm for the hug he knew both of them needed. Sansa hugged him and he could feel her sobbing into his shoulder. He rubbed a hand on her back and comforted her. He looked over at the woman who was accompanying Sansa and gave her a small nod. Once he and Sansa separated, he had her sit on the chair and introduced himself to the other woman who told him she was Sansa’s sister, Arya. The sister quietly went to the other side of the room, took a tissue box and placed in front of Sansa.  
  
Sansa sat on the couch in the waiting room and Arya sat next to her. Ray pulled up a chair and sat in front of Sansa. For a moment, he let her collect herself. She cried and blew her nose into the tissue. Arya sat with her hand on Sansa’s back, comforting her while Ray held one of her hands on her lap.  
  
“How is he? What happened?” Arya asked after a while.  
  
“Drunk driver. Hit two other people and then Sandor. Police were already looking for the driver so when Sandor’s car turned and fell, they immediately pulled him out. His left leg and arm are injured and the worst in that case is a fracture but it’s the head the doctors are concerned about. They aren’t sure if it’s a serious injury or not.”  
  
Sansa seemed to sob harder at that. For a while, none of them spoke. Not that talking about anything would make a difference.  
  
Ray spotted someone in blue scrubs walking their way from outside the glass walls of the waiting room and he sat up in his place. Sansa noticed his change in posture and looked up. She was standing out of the couch in a second and waited impatiently as the doctor made her way to them.  
  
“Are you Sandor Clegane’s family?” she asked.  
  
“Yes”, Sansa responded immediately and Ray saw Arya nodding at her side.  
  
“Please have a seat.” The doctor said as she pulled a chair to sit with them.  
  
Sansa sat and held Ray’s hand in hers.  
  
Ray braced himself for the worst.  
  
“He’s doing fine, all things considered. Mr Clegane is very lucky that the paramedics and police were around due to the previous accidents. His left arm is fractured. It is likely that when his car crashed, he lifted his arm to protect his head and the impact caused a fracture. There are mild fractures to the radius and the ulna, which are the two bones in the upper part of the arm. His leg is injured and scrapped but it’s not injured gravely. Thankfully Mr Clegane was not hit too hard on the head. There was some bleeding that we have under control but we have to keep him under observation.”  
  
“He is okay?” a small voice piped from his side and Ray did not have to turn to know that Sansa had also braced herself for the worst.  
  
“Yes ma’am. As I said, Mr Clegane was very lucky. If the paramedics hadn’t gotten to him in time, the situation would have been very different.”  
  
“Can we see him?” Ray asked.  
  
“He is in recovery. He will be transferred to an observation room later. He won’t be conscious until a few hours but after we shift him to observation, you can see him.”  
  
“Thank you so much, doctor.” Sansa said from his side.  
  
The doctor smiled at her kindly and turned to Ray. “Thank you for the documents. You can collect them from the reception.” She turned to the other two women and continued. “Someone will come and inform you when he’s in observation but it won’t be for another hour or two. Please brace yourself for a long night.” Both sisters nodded dutifully at the doctor.  
  
Once the doctor left, the three of them deflated briefly. Their shoulders slumped to a relaxed stance and they blew out a breath of relief. Ray excused himself to retrieve Sandor’s files and walked back to the room to find Arya curled up on one of the sofa and Sansa sitting on another, her feet pulled up beside her. Ray smiled kindly at them and sat next to Sansa.  
  
“She is refusing to leave. I asked her to sleep. She’s had a long day.” Sansa said, looking at her sister lovingly.  
  
“What about you, my dear?” he asked.  
  
She turned to him and Ray felt pity for the woman. Her eyes were bloodshot and her nose was red from crying. Her entire appearance was in disarray, such a contrast to the collected woman he had met roughly two weeks ago.  
  
“I don’t think I can go to sleep until I see him.”  
  
“Well, it’s going to be a long night for the both of us.”  
  
Ray sighed and settled back into the couch, Arya’s light snores filtering through the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ch 12 may be posted a little late tomorrow. I am not having a productive day at all.


	12. Chapter Twelve: Sansa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a trashy day yesterday but thank you all for the kind comments. It means so much <3  
> Yetis_girl suggested that the drunk driver from the previous chapter could have been Cersei Lannister and honestly, I am all for that idea. I don't mention it in the story but she got arrested and imprisoned lol
> 
> In the duration of the chapter, Sansa is roughly 11 weeks pregnant.
> 
> Update: my laptop crashed while writing the chapter and I had to rewrite the last bit so there might be some mistakes there because I had to write it from memory, which btw is shit, and some parts were missing but I think it's fine now.

She held Sandor’s hand in hers.  
  
Sometime in the early hours of the morning, a staff had walked into their room and told them that Sandor had been transferred. Sansa had gently woken Arya up and the three of them had walked into Sandor’s room. The beige walls, curtain and décor of the room was a stark contrast to the man lying down on the bed. Sandor had his shoulder length hair secured behind his head as a large wrap of bandage dominated his forehead and scalp. There were minor cuts and scrapes on his face and his left arm was encased. The lower part of his body was covered with a sheet and Sansa could only guess the amount of injuries he must have sustained on the left leg.  
  
For the better part of the morning, Sansa and Ray had altered between sitting next to Sandor and sitting on the couch in the corner of the room. At around 8 am, Sansa had sent Arya home to rest and asked her to come back later in the afternoon. Ray had excused himself in the middle to call Sandor’s office and inform them of the accident. Ray had purchased chewing gums and sandwiches for them and Sansa was coaxed into eating them for the sake of Bean.  
  
Sandor had woken up at some point, but he hadn’t spoken and only looked around. The doctors had come and checked on him and informed Ray that Sandor seemed to be doing fine and that he was on a lot of medication and would sleep for quite some time.  
  
Right now, Ray was taking a much deserved nap on the couch while Sansa sat next to Sandor’s bed in a chair.  
  
The hand she held seemed so fragile. It’s callouses a contrast to her delicate fingers.  
  
She had been so afraid of what would happen to Sandor. When she had heard of the accident, she had thought of the worst. The last time someone close to hers had been in an accident, they had lost the use of their limbs for life.  
  
Through the long hours of the night, waiting for someone to come in and tell them that they could see Sandor, she reflected on all the moments she had spent with the man. The banter and the teasing between them had been growing at a steady pace. They had begun growing comfortable enough to joke with each other. He had begun calling her “little bird” because of her constant “chirping”. If she didn’t know him better, she’d think it was a subtle message to let her know that she spoke too much. But now that she did know him, she knew that he only meant it as a joke. After all, the man paid very close attention to whatever she said and would remember all her stories even when she forgot parts of it. She had begun calling him a “hound”. It was only fair that an animal moniker was retaliated with another. He didn’t seem to mind the nickname and would occasionally growl at her to prove the worth of his new name.  
  
They had been spending more and more time together. She had spent a great deal of time at his house. Sandor was never inappropriate towards her and never made any advances. He gave her her own space, her own room and her own bathroom. Soon, the spare en suite had a little pocket deodorant that Sansa liked using and was housing one of Sansa’s spare combs. The previous weekend when she had stayed over, she had brought her own night clothes and left them at Sandor’s apartment when she went to work on Monday.  
  
Sansa had spent a great deal of time reflecting on the morning she had woken up in Sandor’s apartment a week ago. Sandor and Stranger had been missing a note on fridge said that they were out for a run. Sansa had proceeded to brush, bath and cook her breakfast. She had been in the middle of cutting a banana when Sandor had walked into the apartment.  
  
His hair was tied back and he was wearing a grey tee that had clung to his body with sweat and _sweet Jesus!_ Sansa had forgotten how many muscles the man had. Sandor had stood next to the door, panting heavily and each breath exaggerated his taut muscles. And then that glorious man had knelt to remove Stranger’s leash and that ass and those thighs and _fuck_ Sansa looked back at the cutting board and now her finger was bleeding. She hadn’t even realized that there was a knife in her hand and she had accidentally nicked her hand while thirsting on a man. She had probably winced at the cut because Sandor was behind her all of a sudden and _damn it! Since when did sweat smell good on someone?_ He was holding her finger delicately and telling her something about being more careful but Sansa could process none of that because her brain’s CPU had crashed and all her brain cells were currently drowning in a pool of drool. All she could focus on was Sandor and that little bead of sweat rolling down his forehead and running down that sleek jawline and she had to physically restrain herself from doing something stupid and had to shake herself out of the stupor and excused herself and went to the spare en suite to collect her thoughts and restart her brain.  
  
It had to been the hormones making her act like a – what did Arya call it? – a thirsty hoe.  
  
It was a momentary thing.  
  
It had to be.  
  
But now, sitting here, holding his hand while he recuperated from his injuries all she could think was,  
  
_But what if it’s not a momentary thing?_  
  
…………………………….  
  
In the afternoon, Arya had come in with a two Tupperware filled with food. Sansa knew her sister couldn’t cook much and would rather starve that make the effort to cook for herself. But here, she had made the only thing she knew how to and had bought enough to feed her and Ray. Sansa looked at her baby sister lovingly.  
  
“Don’t give me googly eyes. I didn’t want you or Ray to starve and I wasn’t going to waste precious money to buy you food. Also, there’s your toiletries in the bag. Brush. You stink! And I got a change of clothes too. I know you’re going to here looking after the mutt. Might want a change of clothes.”  
  
Sansa gave her sister a hug and a kiss on her forehead before going to the adjoined toilet to brush and freshen up. She wasn’t gone too long but by the time she had walked back into the room, Sandor was awake. Ray and Arya were standing next to his bed with a doctor examining Sandor’s eyes.  
  
“Can you move your toes, Mr Clegane?” the doctor said and moved towards the foot of the bed and examined Sandor’s toes which were moving. He moved back up to Sandor’s head and asked him to look up and flashed light into Sandor’s eyes.  
  
All through the process, Sansa held her breath. She did not know what any of that was supposed to reveal. She wasn’t in the room when Bran woke up and she didn’t know what anything meant. She only held her breath and hoped that Sandor was alright.  
  
“Are you experiencing any discomfort, Mr Clegane?”  
  
Sandor shook his head.  
  
“Are you feeling too much pain? Do you want more medication?”  
  
Sandor shook his head.  
  
The doctor then turned to them.  
  
“Mr Clegane seems fine. He might be a little drowsy because of all the medication. He can sit straight after a while. Let us know if he experiences too much pain.” The doctor said and turned to Ray. “Can I talk to you outside for a moment?”  
  
Ray nodded and left with the doctor.  
  
“Thank fuck you’re alive, dog.” Arya said and patted Sandor’s arm. She turned to Sansa and said, “I’ll go call Dad and tell him Sandor’s okay.” Sansa raised her brow in question. She did not know her father knew about the accident. “Dad called to talk to me today morning and I told him about the accident. He seemed genuinely worried.” Arya explained and walked out of the room.  
  
Sansa turned to Sandor. It was just the two of them now. She pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat on it.  
  
“Hey” he croaked.  
  
“Hey” she said and smiled. “I was so worried about you Sandor, don’t do that again, okay?”  
  
“Not… my….. fault” he struggled as he said the words.  
  
She clasped his hand in hers smiled.  
  
The relief of having him back again was overwhelming and she couldn’t help the tear that rolled down her cheek.  
  
……………………………  
  
For someone who claimed to be a loner, Sandor sure had a lot of visitors.  
  
Sansa, Arya and Ray were a constant.  
  
Ray would stay by Sandor’s bedside and have mostly one sided conversation with the man about the VA and its latest gossip. Arya would slip in and out the whole weekend. She would show up with food and snacks for the other two people and sit next to Sandor’s bed, play games on her phone and give the man a running commentary of the game. She had also gone to Sandor's place in the evening and taken are of Stranger, who according to Arya, wasn't doing too well. Sansa would sit with him and talk about nothing and everything at the same time. She told him of the meeting with her dad and about the rest of her week. Sandor did not speak much and would sometimes reply with a sentence or two. The doctor told them that that was normal and that conversations would help distract him from the pain.  
  
Ray and Sansa had discussed at length about Sandor’s recovery. He was to be in the hospital for another week or so and then he could go home but he wasn’t advised to go to work for two weeks. The doctors wanted to make sure that his head injury was fine before discharging him. He was advised to take rest and not work on anything tedious for prolonged period of time. He had to ensure his leg injuries were fully healed and his fracture was healing before he got the green signal for spending eight hours a day working. Considering that Sandor lived alone, someone would have to take care of him. Ray and she had come to an agreement that Ray would stay with Sandor for the daytime while Sansa worked and Sansa would stay with him for the evenings. They knew Sandor would be handful, with that sour attitude of his but they were determined to get him back to health.  
  
On Saturday evening, Sandor’s co-workers had come to meet him. Four giant men and one small, shy man crowded the room.  
  
Davos, the elderly gentleman seemed kind and assured Sandor that the office was ready to give him as many days as he needed to get better. The small man, who introduced himself as Sandor’s PA got the man a bouquet of flowers and placed them meekly by the bedside and scurried behind the rest of the group. The rest of the three men seemed king enough and then the red headed man said,  
  
“Should’ve stayed and gotten drunk with us when we asked ya to. Now look at ya, all banged up.” That earned him a shove to the rib and few glares but he seemed unbothered, still flashing his grin at Sandor, who looked entirely too uncomfortable of being the object of everyone’s scrutiny.  
  
The group stayed in the room for a while, mostly discussing office stories with Sandor. They left with the promise of meeting him and wished him a speedy recovery.  
  
She didn’t miss the glances the men threw at her. When the older two gentlemen looked at her, it was with the same impassiveness with which they regarded Ray or Arya. When the other two men looked at her, the Bronn and the Tormund man, they looked at her suspiciously, like she was out of place here, but then they would exchange glasses and look at her with amusement. Sandor had said that he hadn’t mentioned her or the baby to anyone besides Ray and she shrugged at their reactions. If it had been her and her co-workers had found Sandor lurking around her, they would be confused too.  
  
Ray had offered to spend Sunday night in the hospital and took a day off on Monday. Sansa was thankful at the opportunity of being able to go home but was upset at having to leave Sandor. With a pat on his hand and a goodbye, she picked up her bag and left the hospital.  
  
After going home, she took a nice, long shower. While showering, she noticed that her belly had begun protruding. Sansa had always been skinny and the little bump was uncharacteristic for her body. She gently held the tiny bump in her hand. After the shower, she changed and ate dinner but something didn’t feel right to her. The house around her seemed out of place. She checked the clock and it was still 7 pm. If she made it quick, she might be able to catch the last bus. She went to her room and packed a quick overnight bag. She had pajamas and toiletries at his place but she needed clothes for work tomorrow. She packed everything she needed, told Arya she would be looking after Stranger tonight and left home. She caught the bus just as it was about to leave and arrived at Sandor’s apartment clutching his keys in her hand. The hospital had given them the clothes, keys, wallet and other belongings they had found on Sandor during the accident and Sansa had it all with her. She greeted the guard at the door and made her way to his apartment.  
  
Ever before she unlocked the door, she heard a little whine from the house.  
  
She opened the door and walked in to Stranger sitting by the entrance.  
  
The dog padded softly to her as Sansa clicked the door shut behind her and crouched down on the floor. Stranger sniffed her clothes and gave a low woof. He placed his snout on her shoulder and whined softly. Sansa dropped her bag on the floor and sat down with her legs crossed and picked up the dog and placed him on her lap. Stranger kept whining softly and she rubbed his back. The dog’s pitiful woofs broke Sansa’s heart.  
  
“I know baby. I miss him too.”  
  
She cuddled the dog closer and buried her face in his furs as the two sat in solemn sadness at the absence of their favourite human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. 
> 
> Yet again, thank you for all the kind and compassionate comments yesterday. I was a tad bit down because PMSing sucks but there's nothing a little dessert can't solve and ya girl feasted on two slices of cake and now she's all good.


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Eddard  Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddard Stark and his interaction with one Sandor Clegane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For context, Ned is 48, Rickon is 15.  
> Sansa is approximately 12 weeks pregnant.

Ned was a little unsure of what to make of the whole situation.  
  
When Sansa had told him about the pregnancy, his brain had immediately gone blank.  
  
He always had a soft spot for Sansa. She was his first girl. Arya had been special to him for a whole other reason, she was Lyanna incarnated, the same fire and zeal in her eyes. But Sansa had been very gentle and sweet. She was so delicate, since the moment she had been born. She won his heart when a week old Sansa Minisa Stark opened her blue eyes and looked at Ned and gurgled. Ned was a goner in that moment. The first time she walked, it was to follow him to the kitchen. Since then, he would arrive home every day and wait by the door as his little princess walked to him for wherever she was sitting, little _flap flap flap_ of her small feet smacking the floor, chanting “Dady dady dady” all the way until she would barrel into his pant and grin up at him and make grabby hands at him. It was a routine for them. And it stayed all the way into her teen years. He would always come home and she would be the first to greet him and she was such a wonderful sight for his sore, tired eyes.  
  
Ned knew Catelyn often enforced harsh principles on Sansa that she had to follow through. When Sansa had been a child, Cat would spend hours hunched over brochures for various classes and by the time she was barely a teenager, Sansa had been going to school and to several evening classes. Seeing the girl come home most evenings and fall asleep while eating dinner broke his heart. There had been countless fights between them regarding Sansa’s schedules. He tried to do all in his power to make it easier for Sansa. He begun taking her out to lunch in parts of the city she wouldn’t visit with her mother. Spending those moments with Sansa had been one of his fondest memories with his children.  
  
And now, his little princess of his was pregnant.  
  
Ned had been caught off guard.  
  
If she were dating, it wouldn’t have come as such a surprise, perhaps. But the fact that she had become single a few months ago and was still trying to emerge in her career made it all the more shocking. Of course he knew Sansa wanted kids. One only had to look at the amount of baby dolls she owned and the kind of career she had to be able to guess how much being a mother meant to her. But he also knew that she wanted a big wedding, a handsome groom, a house in the suburbs, the whole deal. It was unlike her to get pregnant out of wedlock. In the moment, he had wanted some more time to think about, a little more time to reflect it. He didn’t want to say something that would hurt his girl. He wanted to collect his thoughts and talk about it later.  
  
But then Cat had started speaking. And some of the things she said were downright vile. Her words stung, even to his own ears. And they were being directed at Sansa. He was so overwhelmed by the unprecedented news, by his wife’s reaction that he didn’t know what to say. He could only ask her to stop, to not say such things, but it didn’t matter. Cat went on and on and on and then asked Sansa to leave.  
  
And he, he just sat there.  
  
Reflecting on it later, Ned had been so ashamed of himself. He had failed his daughter. All she wanted was support. She wanted what every child deserved from their parent and he couldn’t even do that for her.  
  
Ned had fought with Cat for an entire week. Had not even slept in the same room as her, for the first time in thirty years he had been under the same roof as his wife and not slept next to her. He had spent several sleepless nights in one of the guest bedrooms. He had spent hours at end under the weirwood tree asking the Old Gods for forgiveness.  
  
After a lot of thought, he had called Sansa. She hadn’t gone easy on him, not that he expected her to. She was as sweet as someone could be, but she was fiercely protective of what was hers. Her words had stung, especially her allegation about the mistreatment Jon received.  
  
The whole thing with Jon was something Ned tried his hardest not to think about.  
  
Lyanna was barely 17 when she got pregnant. With a married man’s child. It had been a rough time for his family.  
  
Jon, though was not at fault, was caught up in the whole circus. Each time anyone complimented Jon on being smart and intelligent, capable of taking over after his uncle, Cat would glare daggers at the boy. When Jon had been young, Ned had been able to provide a semblance of a good childhood to him. A nanny took care of him all the time and Ned spent equal amount of time with him and his other children. Sometime around the teenage years, the boy slipped from Ned’s grasp. He began finding home in anywhere but his house. He would stay at school late, hanging out with the security guards; he would take his stray dog and roam outside for hours; he would stay at a nearby park for hours at end in the weekend, choosing to escape Cat’s scorn playing around with random children. The day he had graduated high school, he had left. They had come back from a family dinner and found a note saying that Jon had left. Cat had barely batted an eye but Ned had been hurt. The boy used all his money from his part time jobs and chose to go away and join the army.  
  
And now he was on the verge of losing another child.  
  
He wouldn’t let history repeat itself.  
  
……………………..  
  
He did all he could in his power.  
  
Sansa rejected the money he offered her but he was one step ahead of her already.  
  
He invested the entire sum wisely and kept the documents separately. It she did not want it, it was her decision, one that he respected. But there was nothing that would stop him from giving that money to his first grandchild.  
  
He called Sansa as often as he could. She was rude the first few times but he bore it. He deserved the treatment for what he had done and he was not going to back down. He kept calling her and texting her until she relented and met him.  
  
Meeting her at the diner had been his chance at redemption. And it had gone remarkably well. She was cordial with him and seemed to be in the process of forgiving him. Watching her talk about the baby had only reminded him of why he was doing it - for her happiness. Her whole face lit up when she spoke about the sonogram. And the picture. If he hadn’t fathered so many kids he wouldn’t have known where to look for what but he did know and that baby, with the too large head and the translucent spine, was all too familiar. He couldn’t believe it.  
  
_His first grandchild._  
  
Cat was still bitter about the whole ordeal. Ned had told her that he was not a part of her actions and that he had decided to accept Sansa’s decision. She was a grown woman and if wanted to raise a child out of wedlock, he would respect it. He had moved back to his room with Cat but things between them hadn’t been the same. They had fought up a storm the day Sansa had left. It wasn’t like Ned to scream and shout and so later when he decided to apologize to Sansa, he calmly informed Catelyn that he was going to call Sansa and offer her the money and that if she wanted to apologize, she should do so herself and that he wouldn’t bear responsibility for her action.  
  
“I will not stand by and watch as another one of my child drifts away from me.”  
  
The glare she directed towards him told him that she knew what he was talking about. She huffed at him and walked away and that was apparently, the end of discussion.  
  
She knew he was going to meet Sansa and that he had been talking to Sansa over the phone but she didn’t speak to him about it. They maintained civility at home for the sake of Bran and Rickon. Moreover, if they wanted to combat Rickon’s recent behaviour, they needed to have a united front. That boy was smoking like a chimney these days and between taking care of Bran and having their own problems and Ned’s demanding job, taking care of a teenager was becoming an arduous task.  
  
Eddard Stark thanked all the Gods above that his daughter was having a child while she was still young. It was hard to be approaching fifty and still raise a teenager.  
  
…………………..  
  
He had called Arya on a whim.  
  
He had spent the previous evening at her apartment and everything had gone well and he wanted to know what her plans for the weekend were. He thought that perhaps he could spend more time with his younger daughter.  
  
And then she had told him that Sandor Clegane had met with an accident and was in the hospital. Ned wasn’t very sure as to what role exactly the man played in his daughters’ lives. He knew Sansa planned to raise the child with its father but whether the man and her were in a relationship or not was never elaborated upon. He also did not know how close Arya was to the man. But the tremor in her voice as she spoke over the phone was alarming. Arya had always been guarded. She rarely cared for anyone beyond family. Her pack was everything to her, a true wolf. Beyond that, she never seemed to much care for other people, their opinions or their life. She was the kind of child who ventured into the wild and came back unscathed. And to hear her break down for this Clegane man was uncharacteristic. Arya had explained that they had spent the entire night at the hospital and that in the morning, a friend of Sandor’s and Sansa had stayed in the hospital while Arya had come back home to sleep for a while. Ned did not know the man but he didn’t want the father of his grandchild to be gravely injured. So he asked Arya to keep him updated.  
  
She had called him up the next day and told him that the man was doing fine. She sounded relieved. When Ned asked about Sansa, he was told that his daughter, the ever gentle soul, had taken vigil by the man’s bedside.  
  
To the best of his knowledge, Sansa had known this man for barely two months, Arya even lesser period of time. If a man took less than a few weeks to have both of his daughters care about him, he must be worth a visit.  
  
And that is what precisely motivated Ned to drive to the hospital the next week.  
  
Arya had told him that Sandor was doing much better. That his head injury was recovering well and he only had a small patch on his head. His arm had been fractured and would take few weeks to heal but he was allowed to move back home in the weekend. Ned wanted to visit the man in the hospital. He knew that standing by Sansa’s side at this time would reinforce his actions in that he accepted the decisions she made.  
  
On Thursday evening, he found himself picking up Rickon from football practice in the evening and driving to the hospital. He walked up to the reception and asked for Mr Clegane. She contacted someone and asked him to take a seat. Rickon sat next to him with the most bored look on his face while Ned simply waited for whoever it was to come to him.  
  
A while later, a staff made their way to him and asked him to follow them. Rickon trotted behind Ned as they reached the sixth floor of the hospital. They were led to a private room labelled 604. The staff gently knocked on the door and asked opened it.  
  
“An Eddard Stark here to meet Mr Clegane.”  
  
Ned heard an affirmation and smiled kindly at the staff and moved in.  
  
A bed dominated the centre of a sprawling private room and Ned’s eyes first landed on Sansa, sitting next to the bed.  
  
“Dad?” she asked in disbelief. She stood up from the chair and made his way to her and Ned opened his arms for the hug that he knew was coming. “What are you doing here?” she asked in a low whisper.  
  
“Arya told me Mr Clegane was injured. I wanted to come and meet him and wish him speedy recovery.” Sansa moved away from him and smiled at him. She looked over his shoulder and waved at her brother.  
  
“Come in.” she said and pulled him by the hand beside the bed. “Dad, this is Sandor. And that’s his friend, Ray.”  
  
Ned’s eyes moved quickly to the man beside Sandor Clegane’s bed, who seemed to have been observing him with narrowed eyes. He nodded at the man before focusing back at the object of scrutiny here.  
  
_Dear Lord!_  
  
How Sansa looked past those scars to direct a beaming smile at the man, Ned had no clue. The scars showed signs of reconstruction but they were still downright hideous. Ned tried to stare at the man’s left profile but the minor scrapes and the gauze on the forehead beckoned attention. The man was lying down on the bed, hooked to machines, probably on medication but it still unnerved Ned that this giant had someone besotted not one, but both his daughters.  
  
Ned cleared his throat.  
  
“Hello. I am Eddard Stark. This is my son Rickon,” he said and pointed to the boy who stood behind him, practically gaping at the man, “I wanted to meet you in person and express how sorry I am about the accident. _My_ Sansa and Arya seem to care about you a great deal and for their sake, if not yours, I hope you recover soon.” Ned couldn’t help but take a possessive tone towards his daughters.  
  
The man scowled at his word.  
  
“Aye, I hope I recover soon.”  
  
So, the man wasn’t talkative. Or a people’s person.  
  
_Why were his daughters attached to this sour man, again?_  
  
Silence prevailed for a very long, uncomfortable moment.  
  
“Well, this was pleasant. Thanks for knocking my sister up. I can’t wait to be an uncle. Yaay!” Rickon said in mock enthusiasm. “I am going to chill on that couch. Y’all can chat as much as you want.” He then turned to Ned. “Get me before you leave.”  
  
“Rickon!” Sansa gasped at his insolence but Rickon just shrugged.  
  
Now everything was even more awkward.  
  
“Would you two like to spend some time alone? I can sit with Sandor while you both talk.” The man, Ray, bless his soul, broke the silence with his calm tone.  
  
His daughter nodded and turned to Sandor. She bent down a little and brushed Sandor’s hair away from his forehead and whispered quietly “I will be right back, okay?”  
  
For a moment, Ned swore he saw the man almost smile. _Almost_  
  
Sansa guided Ned out of the door. They walked to the end of the hallway where a beverage machine was located. Ned got a cup of coffee for himself while Sansa took a bottle of citrus water.  
  
“Why are you here Dad?” she asked with her eyes narrowed at him.  
  
“I wanted to see how you were doing, Sansa. Arya said you had been coming to the hospital to take care of Mr Clegane. I know how worried you can get about people. And as much as I love that about you, I wanted to remind you that you are pregnant and you need to take care of yourself too.”  
  
Sansa seemed to accept his words. She smiled at him. They sat down on the bench placed near the nurse’s station.  
  
“How is he recovering?”  
  
“Good enough. The doctor’s will discharge him in another day. They were worried that his head injury would turn out to be serious but all the scans have proved otherwise. He’s just not allowed to go to work for another two weeks because he can’t take too much responsibility right now. And he needs to give his leg a little rest. He has some nasty cuts on his left leg and it needs time to heal properly.”  
  
“Well, I am glad he is recovering well.”  
  
“Yeah, me too. I was so scared when I heard about the accident.”  
  
Ned looked at his daughter closely. She was put together, as she always was. But there were signs of tiredness on her face. He knew she must have been spending a lot of time and effort looking after the man. He was tempted to ask about the nature of their relationship but he knew this was not an appropriate time so he let it be. He tried switching topics.  
  
“That room was huge. How is Sandor able to afford such an extravagant care?”  
  
“His company’s insurance covers it, actually. Since he works at the executive level, his healthcare is really good. His co-workers have been visiting him. They are very nice people.” Sansa sounded very proud while saying all that.  
  
“Well, good for him.” Ned said and smiled.  
  
They spoke for a while and when Ned was done drinking his coffee, he told Sansa that he had to leave. He wanted to meet Sandor and Ray again before leaving so the both of them made their way to the room. As Sansa opened the door, he hoped that this time around, the tension in the room would be a little less. When the door opened, he could hear bits and pieces of conversation.  
  
“-am just saying. The mid fielder is just as important. It’s a subtle but important link between defence and attack. They need to be fast runners”  
  
Was that Rickon talking to Sandor?  
  
The sight that greeted him was more shocking.  
  
Rickon sat at the bedside chair, his leg propped on Sandor’s bed, having a full-fledged conversation about football positions.  
  
“Yes but it’s more important to have the runners as defenders. They need to be able to cover more ground.” Sandor seemed to be speaking to Rickon on a very friendly tone.  
  
Rickon opened his mouth to argue, but was interrupted by Sansa.  
  
“Hey guys. Dad was just planning to leave. He wanted to say goodbye.”  
  
Ned moved ahead as Rickon moved himself reluctantly from the chair and came to stand by his father.  
  
“I wanted to meet you before I left today. Sansa speaks very highly of you and I hope to meet you once again under better circumstances. Get well soon and let me know if there’s anything I can do to help you.”  
  
Signature scowl in place, the man simply nodded at him. Ned turned to ray and shook hands with the man and with a final goodbye and a hug to his daughter, moved towards the door.  
  
“I’m going to get your number from Sansa. This discussion isn’t over, big guy” Rickon spoke behind him and made some – were they supposed to be finger guns? – gesture at Sandor and trailed behind his father to the car.  
  
As Ned drove home, he reflected on the meeting. He didn’t know what to make of this Sandor Clegane. He didn’t speak to Ned at all. Between his scowls and his one sentence reply, Ned wasn’t left with much to base his assumptions about the man. He seemed to have two Stark’s under his charm but to Ned, he was barely on the brink of being curt. He looked at the rear view mirror and saw Rickon typing into his phone.  
  
He cleared his throat and saw Rickon look up and took the opportunity.  
  
“So, uh, what did you think of Sandor?”  
  
Ned tried keeping his eyes on the road to come off as casual.  
  
“Cool dude. Offered to teach me some dribbling tricks. Man is awesome.”  
  
Coming from Rickon, that meant a great deal. The boy had recently downgraded all his communications to shrugging, grunting and rolling his eyes. For him to use _words_ to describe someone as _awesome_ was disconcerting.  
  
Great.  
  
Now Sandor Clegane had three Starks under his charm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing a teenager is hard. I haven't been one in forty six years :P  
> Since this chapter doesn't add to the progression of the plot too much, I might upload ch 14 later today. No promises though. I finished writing it and I am revising the draft.


	14. Chapter Fourteen: Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking care of an injured Sandor is testing Sansa's patience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sansa is approx 13 weeks pregnant.

Sansa had an irresistible urge to hurl something at his head.  
  
He was downright insufferable.  
  
Ray had warned her about how challenging it would be to look after the man.  
  
“You have to understand, my dear. He’s had to look after himself for so long that it will be hard for him to depend on other people for help.”  
  
Ray’s sweet, kind warning was nothing compared to the tantrums the man threw.  
  
When they had gotten Sandor home the previous week, it had been fine. For the first hour, they had to sit him down on the couch while they all collectively tried to calm Stranger who lost his damn mind that his master was finally home. The dog kept running around and kept jumping up on Sandor and they all winced each time because Stranger was completely indifferent to the various gauze and bandage that were wrapped around his master’s limbs.  
  
Because of Sandor’s arms, he needed help in few tasks. He needed help in changing his clothes, for instance. If he took a shower, he needed help towelling. If he wanted a shampoo, it would be more convenient to have someone do it for him. His dressings needed to be changed. He needed someone to constantly remind him to take medicines. In short, there was a lot that he needed help with.  
  
If only the stupid man would accept help.  
  
For the first few days, Ray had been a great help. He would glare at Sandor and yell at the man and Sansa was reminded of the fact that he was after all, at some point, Sandor’s superior in the army.  
  
“You need help, you big mutt. Get that through your head. Think you can wear that shirt on your own? Go ahead. Try it.”  
  
Sandor did try. And when he got his head stuck in the shirt, he snorted, apologized and asked for help.  
  
That however, did not change the man.  
  
Today, Sansa was supposed to help Sandor wash his hair. And it was turning out to be a herculean task.  
  
“I don’t need your help woman. I can do it myself.”  
  
Sansa rolled her eyes. “It would be more convenient if you let me help you. You can’t move half your arm because of the wrap and the other half still has injuries. Just let me help you, please.”  
  
“I don’t fucking need your help. I’m not a fucking doll. Stop dressing me up and taking care of me and doing this for me and doing that for me. I am not invalid. I am not disabled. I can take care of myself.”  
  
“Let me at least help you take your shirt off.”  
  
“Fine!” he huffed.  
  
Sandor moved to his en suite and began filling up the bathtub while Sansa placed his soap and shampoo close to the head of the tub, in his vicinity. She hung the towel near the door and waited for him to finish adjusting the water. When he turned, she made her way over to him.  
  
“Up” she instructed and he held his arms away from his side.  
  
She rolled his shirt away from his chest and pried it away from his hands. She held it in her hand and looked up at him.  
  
_Every time._  
  
Every time that she helped him change, her breath caught at how magnificent his body was. The broad shoulders, with its deep crevices and those arms looked like they could lift all of her life’s burden. And that chest. She could spend hours mapping it with her –  
  
No. Nope.  
  
_Don’t go there, Sansa._  
  
“Are you sure you don’t need help?”  
  
“Leave me alone, woman.” He barked at her. Sansa stomped her foot and left the washroom.  
  
She went back to the kitchen and began cleaning things up for dinner. She was practically living at Sandor’s apartment now. Considering that she took care of him in the evening, she spent the night at his place. At first, she had bought only a few clothes over. But the commute between work, Sandor’s place and Arya’s place was taking a lot of time so Sansa chose to move in there with a small bag packed with enough clothes for a week. She figured she’d go to Arya’s apartment in the weekends and get more things as and when required.  
  
She picked up her phone and decided to text Ray.  
  
Ray and her had established a good schedule. Sansa would leave for work at 8 am and Ray would come over at 7:30 am. He would stay until 4 pm and Sansa would return home around 3 pm. Both of them had bonded over the impossible task of taking care of Sandor.  
  
**Sansa: If I had a penny for every time I wanted to hurl something at Sandor, I would be rich enough to raise the child on my own.**  
  
**Ray: What did he do this time?**  
  
**Sansa: Shampoo! His known his bum arm won’t give him full mobility needed to shampoo properly but no no! Big man has to do it all by himself.**  
  
“Sansa? A little help, please?” she heard Sandor call from his en suite.  
  
**Sansa: Guess who is calling for my help now?**  
  
**Ray: Make him pay for it.**  
  
Sansa giggled and sauntered towards Sandor’s en suite.  
  
“Yes, darling?” she asked in a sweet, saccharine voice.  
  
“Have your way woman, wash my hair.” He grumbled.  
  
_Oh no! That wouldn’t do._  
  
“Oh. I am not convinced. I don’t think you need my help.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the door.  
  
He turned towards her with a glare, water sloshing with his movement. He kept glaring at her but it did nothing to deter Sansa. She had the upper hand here. She merely smirked at him.  
  
“Aren’t you supposed to be kind towards me?”  
  
“Why? Are you an invalid? Are you disabled?” she asked, throwing his words back at him, still smirking with pride.  
  
Sandor look positively pissed. Good.  
  
“What do you want me to say? Sorry? Fine woman, I am sorry. Now wash my hair.”  
  
“Nuh-uh. You have to be nicer.”  
  
When he growled at her and she didn’t budge, he rolled his eyes.  
  
“Fine! I am so sorry I refused your help. You were right. I can’t do this on my own. Now please help me, kind lady.”  
  
Sansa giggled as she moved towards him.  
  
“Don’t look at my junk.” He said petulantly.  
  
Sansa sat at the head of the bathtub, rolled her sleeves up and took the pitcher Ray had kept in Sandor’s en suite. From this angle, she could focus on Sandor’s head. If she wanted, she could take a peek at whatever she wanted but it wasn’t right. She wouldn’t take advantage of him like that. She asked him to sit straight and began pouring water over his head. She massaged his scalp and when his hair was wet enough, she took a dollop of shampoo and massaged it on his hair. She spent quite a bit of time working the suds on his hair. She smiled at the little noise of displeasure Sandor made when she retrieved her hand. She took the pitcher again and removed the shampoo and proceeded to apply conditioner to his hair. The worked the product into his locks and left them on for a minute. She took that time to lightly massage his shoulders.  
  
“The fuck you doing that for?” he asked incredulously.  
  
“Conditioner needs a minute to sit on your hair. I’m just giving you a massage. Don’t look so alarmed.”  
  
As she worked the tension on his shoulder, he groaned a little. His muscles were so tight. She lost herself in a trance as she worked on his shoulders. His skin, even in the bathtub, felt warm and welcoming. The smoothness of his skin called to be touched and touch them, she did. Her hands began moving to the upper part of his arm when he called her name.  
  
“Sansa, I think the conditioner has set in.”  
  
“Right. Yeah. Yes. Of course.” Sansa managed to blabber.  
  
She washed his hair thoroughly and when it was done, she got up quickly and used the towel to wipe her fingers dry.  
  
“I’ll go make dinner.” She said and rushed outside, away from him and his unfairly hot body.  
  
…………………………  
  
Sansa rubbed her temple lightly.  
  
Who knew teaching five year old could be so stressful?  
  
Apparently, her idea with the VA had been a hit. Parents were sending emails to the school, praising them for the efforts of educating their children beyond the confines of the classroom. Some of the parents wanted to volunteer for the session. The initiative was growing beyond the scope that Sansa had originally planned. Now, Mrs Tyrell wanted to include the second and third graders into it. That would make the total number of students sixty. Sansa needed to talk to Ray about the arrangements. She would be able to do that, if only their time was occupied in trying to coax Sandor into accepting their assistance.  
  
Sansa closed the laptop and rested her head on the cool surface of the table in the teacher’s lounge.  
  
Just yesterday, she had a huge fight with Sandor. When she had come back home after work, she had found a very disgruntled Ray fuming in the living room. She did not have to be a rocket scientist to guess why the man was upset. The reason of his chagrin was in his room, working on his laptop. Sandor knew all too well that he was not supposed to work, either at his office or from home. The glare of the laptop and the stress of the work was something he was advised not to put himself through. Even his colleagues, some of whom had come over to meet Sandor after he was discharged, had assured the man that the office would do just fine without him and that he should rest. Apparently they were all speaking to a deaf man.  
  
“Sandor, what are you doing? You know you’re not supposed to work on your laptop.”  
  
“Stop fucking treating me like a child!” he bellowed.  
  
Sansa was taken aback by his attitude. Sandor being rude was not newfound. Sansa and Ray had to often walk away from Sandor after one of his outburst, lest they physically attack the man. They understood that it must be frustrating to be so dependent on other people, after having been self-reliant for so long. But it was crossing a line now. Sansa had dealt with children the whole day. Actual, small children, who were much easier to take care of than Sandor. After a tiring day, she did not have energy for his tantrums.  
  
“Do not yell at me, Sandor! Ray and I are only trying to help you -”  
  
“Aye well no one fucking asked you to! Leave me alone!”  
  
For a moment, Sansa wanted to. She wanted to pick up her bag and leave. She truly did. As much as she had begun to care about the man, there was only so much she could take. Before she could make a drastic decision, she heard Ray come and stand beside her.  
  
“You think you can take care of yourself? Fine. Sansa,” she turned to face the man when he called her name, “let’s go and have a good hearty lunch. Since Sandor here can handle everything, let him.” With that, Ray had walked away.  
  
Sansa turned back to look at Sandor. If he apologized, she’d forget it all and make lunch for them. She was after all, starving quite badly. But the insufferable man continued staring at his laptop with the biggest scowl, so she left. Ray and Sansa took Stranger along with them. They went to a nice restaurant, sat outside in the fresh spring air and ate a good meal. They then took Stranger for a walk and Ray and Sansa spoke about the VA session and decided on some of the details.  
  
“What if he’s hungry?” Sansa worried.  
  
“Don’t worry. There is leftover burrito in the fridge. He will hate it, but it will serve him right.”  
  
Sansa giggled and continued walking. By the time they returned home, hours had gone by.  
  
Ray opened the door and as they began unleashing Stranger, Sandor emerged behind them.  
  
“I am sorry. I shouldn’t have been so rude.” He said in a low voice.  
  
Sansa had to keep herself from smiling. Ray was right, nothing bought the man down to his knees like cold, leftover food.  
  
Sansa and Ray had forgiven him that day but it did not put an end to Sandor’s complaints. For most part, Sansa would yell back at him, or use her Teacher Voice. Sometimes when things began getting out of hand, she would lock herself in the spare room until she calmed down.  
  
While taking care of him, Sansa had encountered a side of Sandor she hadn’t been, both good and bad. When his colleagues came over to meet him, she saw how guarded he was. He was polite with them, but he never shared any intimate information with them. They still weren’t aware who exactly Sansa was. Which meant that Sandor was not someone who gave out details of his personal life openly. With her and Ray, when Sandor wasn’t being an absolute prick, he was actually not a bad company. The conversations in those time, were surprisingly fun. And when Arya came over, it was a whole other story. The entire time would be spent teasing and embarrassing Sandor. Those evenings were the closest resemblance of a “family time”. In all of those moments, Sansa would begin realizing that she was growing a soft spot for the man. He was all bark and snarl, but underneath he was just someone who wanted a pack of his own. He was protective and possessive, a trait Sansa shared and understood. He cared for Sansa’s well-being. Even when she was taking care of him, Sandor would ask her if she had eaten enough, if she was feeling fine, if she was doing okay and she understood part of the concern was because of their child, but she also hoped it was because he cared about her, as a person, not just as the mother of his child.  
  
But all of this, all of the growing feelings for him would flush down the toilet every time he became short with her or Ray. Sandor was endearing and she cared about him deeply, but with that attitude, he was walking on thin ice.  
  
It was all just too much for Sansa to handle, emotionally. She was concerned about work. She was in charge of a big project and she would soon be going into maternity leave. She wanted to make an impression on the school administration before she left. And back at home, the whole thing with Sandor was becoming very challenging. He tested her endurance, emotionally and physically and all she could hope was that she didn’t crumble.  
  
...................................  
  
Sansa was sitting and working on the last minute details with the VA, when she heard a crash.  
  
She abandoned her work and ran to Sandor’s room and in the faint light coming through the living room, saw him sitting upright and gasping on the bed.  
  
“Sandor? Are you alright?” she asked, slapping her hand against the wall on his room to switch on the light. Her hand finally found the switch and the room brightened with light.  
  
Sandor was sitting on his bed, his shirt soaking with sweat. He looked distraught. She began moving towards his bed when she saw the shards glass lying on the floor. The glass of water that was kept on his bedside table was on the floor, in pieces.  
  
“Do not move from the bed.” She warned and walked to the supply closet to get gloves and rags for cleaning. She returned to the room to find Sandor sitting with his legs pulled up to his chest and his head in his hands, breathing heavily. “Just give me a minute okay. I will clean this up first.” She picked up the larger pieces of the glass and threw them away. She then got a wad of tissues and picked up the smaller pieces while wearing gloves. Having cleaned up all the classes, she swept the floor, just to be sure and cleaned all the water splattered around with a rag. She checked the floor thoroughly and kept everything back in its place and grabbed a bottle of water before moving back to his room. She sat next to him and placed her hand on his arm tentatively. When he looked up at her, his eyes seemed crazed and troubled.  
  
“Drink” she said and moved the bottle towards him. He accepted the bottle and drank a few sips hurriedly before handing it back to Sansa, who placed it on the table. She began running soothing circles on his back with her hand.  
  
“What happened?”  
  
“Nightmare.”  
  
She moved closer and began pushing his hair out of his face. He was sweating so much. She took tissues from the bedside table and wiped his face.  
  
“Want me to turn up the AC?” she asked. He shook his head.  
  
She didn’t know what to say. It seemed as if the nightmare had been pretty jarring. He must have been having the nightmare for a long time, considering how much he was sweating. And he must have knocked the glass over in a fit.  
  
“Do you have nightmares often?” she asked.  
  
He shook his head.  
  
“Do you think you can go back to sleep?” she asked.  
  
He looked at her with sorrowful eyes and shook his head.  
  
She couldn’t leave him alone like this.  
  
She moved away from him and he caught his hand in hers.  
  
“Where are you going?” he asked in a small voice.  
  
“I’ll switch off the light and come back.” She promised and pried his hands away. She went around the house switching off lights and checking the lock on the door. She switched off her laptop. She still had a lot of details to work on but it was the weekend, she would finish it all tomorrow. She was already wearing her pajamas. She placed her phone on charge and whistled for Stranger to follow her into Sandor’s room. The dog emerged from the spare bedroom and took his place on the doggy bed in Sandor’s room. Once Stranger settled in, Sansa switched off the lights  
  
Sansa got into bed with Sandor. She sat close to him and put her hand on his shoulder. “I’ll spend the night with you. Go to sleep.” She said and got under the covers and laid down on the bed.  
  
He laid down on the bed next to her. Both of them were on their back, staring at the ceiling. She could feel tension radiating from Sandor’s body. He was lying too still, still breathing raggedly. Whatever he had dreamt of, was still disturbing him  
  
“What was it about?” she asked in a whisper.  
  
She heard him sigh by her side. She hoped the darkness made it easier for him to talk.  
  
“I dreamt of my brother. Gregor. I was six when he, uh, when he burned me.” Sansa tried to stifle the gasp that was on the tip of her tongue. “He was mad about me taking his toy. We had gotten Christmas presents a while ago and I got this stupid broken truck while he got this action figure that I loved. I thought with him being fifteen, he wouldn’t really want to play with it. I mean, he didn’t even bother keeping it properly. So I picked it up, sat by the fireplace and began playing with it. He walked in, saw me, and in the middle of me trying to apologize, promising that I would never take anything from him ever again, he just shoved me into the fire. Burning flesh, there’s nothing that smells as haunting as that. I just remember the smell. I don’t remember much else. My father didn’t bother taking me to the doctor, just applied whatever salve was at home and prayed for the best. El, my sister took care of me through the whole time. And even after. That sweet angel.”  
  
Sansa heard his voice crack towards the end and her heart broke.  
  
Arya. Robb. Bran. Rickon. Jon. Theon. They all fought, a lot. They argued, like maniacs. The amount of fights in their household over the boys and Arya stealing each other things was innumerable. Robb, Theon and Jon were close at age and always bickering over who owned what. So reluctant to share their things. They were siblings and that’s what siblings did, they fought all the time. But would they melt each other’s face off for it? Never in a million years, no.  
Her father fussed over her even if she had a paper cut. After Bran’s accident, her parents had been devastated. Her mother had been downright inconsolable and father had this lost, devastated look on his face that Sansa truly wished she never had to see again. She couldn’t imagine any of the sustaining injuries and being abandoned by their parent.  
  
No wonder Sandor had thick titanium walls around him. Why would someone, who went through so much pain, let anyone in?  
  
“Right” she said and shifted closer to him. She lifted her arm. “Come here”.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Come here, Sandor.” She insisted.  
  
“Why? What help would your hug do? Give me my face back?” he asked with a snarl.  
  
Of course he would bite the hand that sought to comfort him.  
  
“A little cuddle never hurt anyone. Now come here, Sandor. I don’t have all night.” She said, using her Teacher Voice.  
  
She felt him move towards her. She directed his head on her chest, near her shoulder blade and took his free arm to wrap around her waist. For a moment, he stiffened and then slowly, very slowly, he adjusted himself. His legs tangled with hers and his body lay half sprawled over hers. His weight was a comforting presence on her body. Sansa moved around to bring the blanket over their body. With the hand that was under his head, she rubbed soothing circles on his back. With the other hand, she alternated between rubbing his arms and playing with his hair.  
  
She felt his breath tickling down her chest. She craned her neck and kissed his forehead.  
  
“Sleep” she said, in a whisper and felt him burrow his face closer to her chest.  
  
She continued rubbing circles on his back till she felt him go lax with sleep.  
  
Sansa stayed awake for a long time. She thought about what he had just said. He never spoke about his family. He knew about hers but she didn’t know if he even had parents. And now she was hit with a torrent of information about his deepest, darkest secret. She knew that if he hadn’t been so vulnerable tonight, she would have never had the opportunity to know so much about the man. The only reason she did was because his guard was down, just for a split second. She couldn’t implore him for more details, even if she was intrigued now, because he would just become more guarded with her.  
  
She closed her eyes and imagined herself as a six year old. Arya must have been a toddler then and Bran just a baby. She must have spent all of the time trying to make Arya follow her feminine ways or cooing over Bran or being coddled by her elder brothers. She didn’t have a shred of traumatic memory from her childhood. Sure, teenage was hard and adulthood was a nightmare, but that wasn’t unique for just her. Her childhood was nothing but love and laughter. She couldn’t imagine going through so much at such a young age. It must have been so hard for Sandor. And all of this made her even more proud of who he was as a person now, a successful person with a good career. It would have been so much more easier for him succumb to the worst ways of existence but he rose and made something for himself.  
  
Her arms tightened around him and she left a long, slow kiss on his forehead.  
  
She placed her cheek on his head and closed her eyes.  
  
As she slept, she dreamt of a scarred young boy playing with a small red headed toddler.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Just wanted to let you know that updates may be irregular until 25th May. I am changing country of residence, again, lol and I have a lot of work to do. So in case I don't upload regularly hereon, don't think that I am abandoning this fic.


	15. Chapter Fifteen: Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~(˘▾˘~) (~˘▾˘)~
> 
> Enjoy ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is long and I apologize for that. I initially wanted to span this over two chapters so that I could elaborate on some of the aspects more but I felt like that would draw things out unnecessarily. So, here goes. I hope y'all like it.
> 
> The chapter spans over ten days and by the end of it, Sansa is 15 weeks pregnant

He woke up to a body curled behind his.  
  
He instantly knew who it was and winced. He should not have told her the whole thing with Gregor. Well, he didn’t actually say the _whole_ thing. There were lots of details he skipped over, of course. But now she knew about the incident. She would now look at him with pity and he hated that.  
  
He cursed himself for having that stupid nightmare. It wasn’t as though he didn’t have nightmares often. He had bad dreams about Gregor or the army or worse, about El. In most cases, he would wake up and spend the rest of the night either watching TV or working. Once when he had a terrible nightmare, he’d gone running at 3 am in the morning. He would have handled the nightmare by himself if it hadn’t been for Sansa barging in the room. When she had asked him what it was, under the guise of the darkness, it was easier to pour it all out.  
  
But now things would change. She would wake up with that sad look on her face, pity him and coddle him and he would hate the special treatment.  
  
Sometime in the night, he must have turned because Sansa was now clutching on to him like leech. Her head was burrowed in his back, her leg thrown over his and her arms holding him tight. He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of having a foot shorter woman become the bigger spoon. He disentangled her arms and legs and manoeuvred himself out of the bed. He walked to the en suite and shut the door softly. Doing his business in the morning was hard with him bum arm. So he took his time and went about brushing and shitting and peeing and when he got out of the bathroom, Sansa was not in the bed anymore. He could hear pots and pans clanging and realized that she must have been making breakfast.  
  
He groaned inwardly. He was hungry but if he sat at the breakfast table and if Sansa brought last night up, they would have to _talk_ about it and the thought itself nauseated him.  
  
“Sandor, breakfast’s ready!” he heard her call from the kitchen.  
  
His stomach growled and so he made his way to the kitchen counter. A plate with poached eggs and toasted bread waited for him, paired with coffee. Sansa sat on the other side with her oats and fruits and tea. She was scrolling through her phone absent-mindedly and when he joined her, she kept the phone.  
  
“Ray will come soon. You have a doctor’s appointment, don’t forget.”  
  
He nodded at her. She went back to scrolling through her phone and he ate his breakfast quickly, trying to shorten his time with her, afraid that she would bring last night up.  
  
“You seem to have a mighty appetite today. Want me to make you some more food?” she asked skeptically.  
  
“’m fine.” He said around a mouthful. He gulped the last bite of the bread down, downed half the coffee in one go and walked back to his room. He picked up a random book from his bedside and held it in his hand, ready to use it as an excuse to run away from a conversation if Sansa wanted to have one.  
  
The doorbell rang after a while and he heard the Brother come in and converse with Sansa. After a while, he saw Sansa poke her head into his room.  
  
“I am off to work. Take care, Sandor.” She said and disappeared.  
  
Sandor breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that he didn’t need to talk about whatever happened last night.  
  
……………………….  
  
The doctor had deemed him good to go back to work.  
  
Sandor had never in his life wanted to hug a doctor so bad.  
  
He was sure that if he was told to spend another day quarantined at home, he would jump off his balcony.  
  
He fucking hated being so helpless. He was going to be 35 in a few months. He didn’t need anyone helping him change his clothes or towel him or wash his hair. He was a grown ass man, not a Barbie. He had been in the army, damn it! He didn’t need people fussing over him. It was beyond irritating.  
  
He could still tolerate the Brother helping him but when Sansa did it, it was downright demeaning. She was the pregnant one, she was the one who needed to be fussed over, not him. He was supposed to protect her and the kid, not the other way around.  
  
He loved working. He loved having sheets and sheets of numbers in front of him. Sandor spent hours hunched over the numbers, analysing them and studying them carefully, until they made sense and he could then process them into account sheets. Speculations in the financial market was no child’s play. Not everyone could do it. It required a sixth sense, an ability to be able to predict outcomes in the future. Sometimes, the fact that an entire company’s finances relied on him provided him with thrill and made him want to work harder than he already did. He had battled so much to be able to get this job and now it had become a passionate task for him to be able to bear and execute his responsibilities successfully and being torn away from it made him even more frustrated. He spent twelve hours a day at work sometimes. He wouldn’t leave until his task was done. And it wasn’t so that he could encash those overtime payments. He didn’t even bother reporting most of his overtime payments. He had enough money to last him a lifetime now. He just liked working.  
  
And now, being cooped up in the house, doing absolutely nothing was driving him insane.  
  
But then the doctor had given him good news. His leg was healing well. The cuts and scrapes were better. Some of them were dry enough to not be covered by bandage anymore. His stupid hand was still to be in a cast. That would take another few weeks to be fully operational but his mobility was back, not completely but he’d take what he was offered. The doctor had also removed that bandage on his left forehead that was downright hideous. A smaller gauze now dominated the place.  
  
When he’d called his workplace, they had told him that since this was almost the end of the week, they would much prefer it if he came in on Monday. He was able to call Podrick and convince the man to send him some files over email so that he could work over _something_.  
  
He knew his office was trying to be nice but he would sell his kidney and three of his left toes to be able to go back to work instead of having the Brother and Sansa fuss over him for another minute. Davos and Beric were nauseating in how nice they were to him. They had visited him thrice now, and all the three times had gotten him food and care packages. They had been polite with the Brother and Sansa and didn’t even ask Sandor as to what relationship he shared with the woman, not that he himself had a clue. Tormund and Bronn were a whole other story. Sandor doubted those two even came to wish him good health. He was convinced that they only came to annoy Sandor. Tormund had waited exactly two seconds for Sansa to leave the room and then pounced on Sandor with his waggling ginger eyebrows suggestively and asking who the woman was. Bronn took a different approach. He began flirting with Sansa, not that she reciprocated. He’d say something very sly and witty to her and wait for Sandor to react. At times, Sandor had to remind himself not to punch the man, lest he injure his arm more.  
  
The evenings spent with Arya were a whole other circus. It was as if she forgot that Sandor was even injured. She’d hackle him all the same as she did before and it was refreshing, a stark contrast to the walking on eggshells that Ray and Sansa did.  
  
Sandor hated admitting it. But it was …. Nice. He never had people fussing over him. And even if Sansa and the Brother did manage to get on his nerve with the excessive worrying, it was better than being raised with people who had complete disregard for him, healthy or otherwise. Arya, with all her craziness, Tormund and Bronn, with their annoying existence and Beric and Davos, ever supportive, were good people. Good people who stood by him when he was down and it gave Sandor a warm feeling in his chest that he hated acknowledging.  
  
Eddard Stark, though, was something else. The man was patronising. When he had come to visit Sandor, all that he thought of was the degrading manner in which him and his wife spoke to Sansa. Yes, Eddard Stark didn’t say anything mean and had later made it up to his daughter but he had failed in preventing his wife from saying things that he knew still hurt Sansa. Sandor had seen what Sansa’s parents had done to her, reduced her to a crying mess, left alone in the city. She may have a gentle heart that forgave people but he didn’t.  
  
It would take more than a fucking hospital visit to redeem him in Sandor’s eyes.  
  
………………………….  
  
Sandor was working on his laptop and the Brother and Sansa were on the couch discussing something.  
  
“We’re just short of one more person. Are you sure there’s no one else you can get to volunteer?” He heard Sansa plead. Ever since she came up with this whole VA thing, she seemed really worked up about it. She had mentioned that two more grades were brought into the fold and that even with all the manpower, her being the in charge, she was really nervous about this.  
  
“Well, I mean, I do know other people but I don’t think they’re qualified enough. We are using this as an education opportunity for the kids. They have got to learn from the best. I can’t think of anyone else with the require qualification and tenure.”  
  
Their conversation faded into whisper and then into silence. Sandor was still enraptured with work. The VIC deal had gone through and the contract for the first shipment of valves were coming through. Varys’s company seemed to have worked with the client company for quite some time. It was good for his company, but not so much for Westerlands Inc. If the deal went south, the entire blame would be passed on to Sandor’s legal team. He needed to have contacts in the client company and set up a meeting with them. He began looking through the employee list to find someone suitable.  
  
“Sandorrrrrr” He heard Sansa call him from the couch.  
  
“Yeah?” he replied without taking his eye off the screen.  
  
“Could you please volunteer for the VA session? Please? Pretty please?”  
  
Sandor finally tore his gaze away from the computer to look at the insane person who was asking him for an insane favour. Sansa looked at him with huge puppy dog eyes while the Brother sat there with the most helpless look on his face.  
  
“What? No! Absolutely not!”  
  
“Come on, please? We need someone with good qualification and tenure in the army. You have that. Please?”  
  
“Fuck no. I’m not spending an entire afternoon with kids.”  
  
He turned back to his computer to get back to the task that needed his attention. He felt hands on his shoulder and looked up at Sansa, who was standing dangerously close to him.  
  
“Sandor, please? This means so much to me. You know how hard I have been working on this. I really need just one more person. We just need people in uniform sitting and talking to the kids. Please, Sandor? This could make my career-“  
  
Her voice faded into the background and all Sandor could focus on was the movement of her lips and the scent of her hair. Had she always been this beautiful? This breath-taking gorgeous? Had she always smelled that good?  
  
Oh god. She was still talking.  
  
_What was she saying again?_  
  
Right. Kids. VA. Meeting. Whatever.  
  
“Yeah yeah okay, I will do it.”  
  
Sansa squealed and kissed his cheek with loud _mwah_ and Sandor felt the lingering warmth of her touch on his skin and his brain stopped working.  
  
_What did he agree to, again?_  
  
……………………….  
  
Friday afternoon found him walking into a school.  
  
Fuck. School was traumatizing for him. It was traumatizing for anyone who fell out of the accepted norm of “cool”, but as a kid with a half burnt face, it was never easy. When his friends at primary school got used to his scarring, it was time for secondary school and when they got used to it and stopped teasing him, it was time for high school and those cunts had been vicious. It had helped some that Sandor had begun filling out at 14, muscles growing, height increasing, the true Clegane genes taking over. He joined the football team and brought laurels for the school, several trophies decorating the reception of Lannisport High were there just because of him. That, however, did not stop the snickers or _freak_ , _beast_ , _monster_ being painted on his car and locker. He had made it out though, with a lot of work and endurance, made it out with respectable amounts of As and a long list of sport trophies.  
  
Him and nine other soldiers, resplendent in their uniform were made to sit in the corner of the big room, an assembly room, he guessed. Chairs of seven were placed in circles around the room and few chairs were pushed along the walls for teachers and volunteers to sit on. Sandor sat in the corner by himself as more teachers and students began filling in the room. Soon, the whole place was in an uproar. There were kids screaming each other name, calling on to their teachers, laughing up a storm and for a minute, Sandor questioned the decision of agreeing to parent a kid. Then he saw Sansa walk towards him and the question flew out of his mind.  
  
She wore a simple black shirt and a yellow skirt underneath that reached beyond the knees. The skirt's high waistline hid any trace of the growing belly that he knew was there. It was a modest choice, suitable for a teacher but there was something so alluring about it. It was as it the outfit radiated her beauty. Her hair was pinned back, twisted in a complicated bun but several strands escaped and shaped her face. She had no makeup on but she was glowing. She looked ethereal walking towards him and his breath stopped in his throat. She stopped in front of him and the other fellow ex-military men and women and spoke to them.  
  
“Hello everyone. My name is Sansa. I am in charge today. I will greet the kids soon and then you all can take your seats. Just take any one of the circles of chair and claim any one seat in the circle and we’ll ask the kids to line up and send them to you randomly. I am sure Mr Ray has spoken to you already but just to be clear, each of you will handle six kids. Speak about anything you want with them. If things get uncomfortable or if you need help with anything, let any of us know and we’ll help you out. There will always be a teacher in your vicinity so do not hesitate to ask for help.”  
  
Everyone around him nodded and so did he and then Sansa was gone, facing the students and talking to them in a polite, warm but authoritative manner. For the first time, Sandor got a glimpse of Sansa’s profession and his heart warmed to see so many young, bright faces looking up at Sansa. In that moment, he was incredibly proud of the woman she was.  
  
“ –ask anything you want and share stories, okay? Be kind to one another. Understood?”  
  
Her question was followed by a chaotic, sing-song, “Yes Miss Stark”. Sandor saw Sansa beaming at them and then she nodded at his group and they all stood up. Sandor took the circle in the farthest corner of the room and sat in trepidation.  
  
Soon the teachers began guiding groups of six students to each circle. He saw how the other people smiled at the kids and shook hands with them and traded names. Should he smile? What if he messed it up? What if the kids got scared by his face? He saw Sansa guiding six students towards him. His eyes began moving to the door. If he sprinted and ran, he could escape the school premise in under five minutes, encash his bank account in another 15 minutes and catch the next flight and get out of this country all in under an hour. Why did he even sign up for this?  
  
Sansa guided the group towards the circle.  
  
“Everyone, this is Sandor Clegane. Why don’t you all take a seat and introduce yourself? I will be right around the corner if you need me.” She smiled at the students and then at him and left.  
  
The students stood and stared at him a minute before clamouring and claiming their seats. When the six of them hauled themselves up on the seats, they looked at him impatiently. Three girls and three boys and one giant scarred man.  
  
What could go wrong?  
  
………………………..  
Maria, Naomi, Aliyah, Jason, Heath and Kabir.  
  
Those were the kids sitting in front of him.  
  
It was Heath who spoke first, “Mr Clegane, why do you look like that?”  
  
The question was expected and Sandor had anticipated it coming, but in that moment, he didn’t know how to answer. He didn’t notice Sansa standing behind in, observing everything.  
  
“He fought a great big monster. He defeated the big monster and he carries that like a battle wound.” Sansa gave a mock roar at the group and the kids burst out giggling. “Naomi, why don’t you tell Mr Clegane about your uncle, who is also a soldier?”  
  
With that the little pigtailed girl launched into a story about how she had gone home this thanksgiving and then someone had knocked on the door and it had been her uncle and how surprised everyone was and how grandma had cried and laughed and cried again.  
  
The children seemed to quickly move past his scars and he didn’t get another question thrown at him again. For most part, they spoke to each other more than to Sandor and he was content in sitting and watching them talk over each other’s voice. They asked him questions about war and what it was like to be away from his family. He told them he didn’t really have a family but he built one in the war and that he found close friends in his colleagues. The kids seemed to accept all of his answers like they were words of the Gospel, something that could not be refuted. They asked him what the different medals on his uniform meant, what the colour of his clothes meant and those, he was more than happy to explain. They asked him if he could fly a plane and Sandor tried explaining the difference between an army and an air force, not that they seemed to care about the technicalities much. Sometimes they asked him questions that made him slightly uncomfortable but he would just wing it and give them an evasive answer and they would accept it. They seemed to be more interested in knowing about his life after the military than during.  
  
“Do you have any children, Mr Clegane?” Aliyah asked in a quiet voice, fiddling with the end of her hijab.  
  
Sandor cleared his throat and looked to where Sansa was standing. She was crouching on the ground, talking to a girl dressed in jeans and a purple shirt. She seemed to be talking to Sansa who was sitting in front of the girl, her hand on the girl’s shoulder. Sansa was smiling kindly at the girl. She looked so much in her element, talking to little souls and it constricted his heart.  
  
“No. Not yet. But I have a baby coming.” He said, not tearing his eyes away from the mother of his child.  
  
………………………  
  
When the session ended, the officers from VA were offered lunch. Sansa, the Brother and Sandor had plans to eat at a restaurant together so they sat back while Sansa settled everything down. She was trying to ensure all the kids had taken their belongings and were safely escorted out by her parents. Now she was standing in a corner, talking to an old woman who seemed to be Sansa’s superior. Sandor could see Sansa beaming at the woman and he could bet all his money that she was being praised for her work today. When the woman finished speaking to Sansa, she came back around to where the men were seated.  
  
“That was Mrs Tyrell. The principle and owner of Highgarden schools. She just praised me. I can’t believe it. Everything went so well! Thank you so much for helping with this, Ray” she exclaimed when she walked towards them.  
  
The Elder Brother congratulated and hugged her.  
  
“Congratulations, little bird. You deserve this.” he said and hugged her to his chest. He felt her arms come around him in a feeble attempt to encase his body. Her head came up to his chest, right over his heart and he placed his cheek on her head and inhaled her scent. Honey dew and lemons. Spring. Sunshine. That’s what she smelt like. Sunshine.  
  
The Brother cleared his throat from their left and they separated and smiled at each other.  
  
“Right. Let’s go get lunch. I am starving.” Sansa declared and pulled Sandor by his hand towards the exit, the Brother walking with them.  
  
……………………………  
Sandor was on his laptop, emailing the report to his boss, when Sansa emerged from her room with her bag in her hand.  
  
Sandor’s heart fell.  
  
“Where are you going?” he asked, crestfallen.  
  
“Back to Arya's apartment, Sandor.” She explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re fine now. You will be going to work tomorrow. I don’t have to look after you anymore.”  
  
“Right.” Sandor said belatedly.  
  
Stranger took the opportunity of the humans interacting and hijacked Sansa’s purse and they both spent twenty minutes chasing after the dog. Sandor finally caught the dog, gripped him around the belly while Sansa pulled the strap of her bag away from his jaw.  
  
Sandor stood next to the door, as Sansa checked on everything.  
  
She straightened up and smiled at him.  
  
“Goodbye Sandor.” She muttered quietly and moved to kiss him on the cheek. The kiss landed dangerously close to his lip and Sandor closed his eyes to hide the turmoil of his emotions from her. When he opened his eyes, she was already closing his door.  
  
With the click of the door, she left Sandor and a bewildered Stranger in a house that stopped feeling like …. _home_.  
  
Deafening silence surrounded him as he came to a realization that he was alone. All alone. He wouldn’t wake up to Sansa cooking him breakfast. He wouldn’t look up from his laptop to find Sansa curled on the couch with Stranger in her lap. He wouldn’t watch stupid romantic shows and movies anymore. Her playlist wouldn’t be crooning in the background as they worked in the kitchen with perfect harmony. He would be able to hear her laugh or say “Sandor” in exasperation.  
  
He would come home, to an empty house, the only source of noise being some random channel on the television.  
  
_He was alone._  
  
And for the first time he didn’t want to be.  
  
He grabbed his house key and opened the door. The first elevator was occupied but the second one was free, so he frantically pressed the button. When the damned thing finally arrived, he hit the key for the ground floor and hoped that she hadn’t left yet. It had barely been a minute. She should be in the hallway downstairs. If not, he would come back up for his car keys and drive up to Arya’s and beg for her to come back _home_.  
  
When the doors opened, he ran out and began looking for her.  
  
She was gone.  
  
He stood for a minute and then squared his shoulders and walked back to the elevator, determined to drive up to her place.  
  
When the doors opened to his floor, he found Sansa standing in front of his apartment. She looked at him with round eyes and a gaping mouth, tears marring her face.  
  
_She came back._  
  
"Sansa?"  
  
“Ask me to stay.” she whispered.  
  
He walked towards her and lifted his hand to wipe the tear tracts from her face. She smiled at him through the tears, dropping the bag that was in her hand and his heart stopped beating in his chest. He lowered her mouth to her and gripped her waist with his right hand. She met him halfway through in a slow, soft kiss, a fleeting brush of her lips against his. He didn’t remember kissing her the night they had sex. He must have, of that he was sure. But he didn’t remember the details. Like how soft her lips were. How she shuddered when he kissed her. How, when she opened her mouth just so and he kissed her deeper, she groaned low in her throat. One of her arm came around his waist and the other went to the nape of his neck. He delicately held her face in his right arm while his other arm attempted to bring her as close to him as possible.  
  
The kiss was slow, agonizing really. But it was everything. He pulled back and looked at her, her eyes still close and her face split in a serene smile.  
  
He bought his forehead closer to her and felt as Sansa’s hand move from his neck to his face, cupping his jaw.  
  
“Don’t leave me.” He said with a tremor in his voice, a man unfamiliar to the act of begging for companionship.  
  
“Please. _Stay._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE BEEN DYING FOR THIS TO HAPPEN 
> 
> I can't believe I wrote 15 chapters without a kiss. What a fucking tragedy. 
> 
> Ps- thank you for all the well wishes. Y'all are the sweetest <3


	16. Chapter Sixteen: Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So the kiss finally happened .....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rant about GoT at the end. I need to vent so skip over it if you feel like it. 
> 
> Sorry for the delay. Packing, closing my bank account, filing uni documents and meeting my landlord has been hectic. I had some time today so I wrote it. Hope you like this chapter. x

She hated this.  
  
It was only when she started packing that she realized how much she had started considering this as home. She had begun using the drawers, instead of stuffing her clothes in the bag, her shampoo and conditioner were resting on the shelf in the en suite, her favourite flavour of tea, one that Sandor bought for, her sat next to his coffee beans on the kitchen counter. She had even claimed one cup from the mismatched set of coffee cups that he owned. Her preferred brand of oats rested next to the packet of rice in the pantry. A plush pillow now decorated one side of the couch where she liked to recline. Even the spare room began smelling like her.  
  
At Arya’s, she was very cautious about what she claimed as her space. She would keep her things strictly in her own room, not around the house. She was friends with Arya’s friends but when they came over, Sansa would speak to them for a while before retreating to her room. With Sandor, it was different. His house had begun feeling like home and Sansa didn’t even realize it until she had to leave.  
  
Her heart was in pieces ever since they came back from lunch on Friday. They had come home and Sansa had very casually opened the door with the key that Sandor gave her, without realizing the monumentality of the gesture. It was only when she went to sleep that night that it hit her. That she was just a guest here, someone to take care of Sandor, and that she had to leave when this was done. Her heart broke at the realization and she cried herself to sleep that night. The rest of the weekend went normally, with Sansa trying to hold on to the last thread of domesticity between them. On Sunday, seeing that Sandor was working, she began packing.  
  
Each item that she retrieved served to remind her how much she liked living in this place. And it didn’t have anything to do with how spacious or luxurious the apartment was. It had to do everything with the man and the dog that inhabited the place. She loved waking up to Stranger licking her face, to Sandor making her tea while she cooked breakfast, she loved it when she fell asleep on the couch watching a movie and woke up with a blanket over her a dog tucked in her side.  
  
With her bags packed, she took a deep breath to steady herself. She did not want to seem like someone who overstayed. What if Sandor didn’t even want her there? She was probably invading his personal space. He liked staying in his bachelor pad all by himself. He didn’t need her there and she did not want to cry over it.  
  
She had a brief conversation with him, kissed him on the cheek, accidentally too close to his mouth and left.  
  
When the doors of the elevator clicked shut, the dam burst. She crumpled and began crying. She didn’t belong. Anywhere. She didn’t belong with Harry, with her parents, with Arya, with no one. But in the past two weeks, she finally felt like she belonged somewhere and that someone belonged to her. She comforted him after his nightmare, helped him change his clothes, made him take his medicines, and took slow, languid walks with him and Stranger. She saw him talk to those kids patiently, often getting lost in what he was about to say but then making up for it promptly. Somewhere in the middle of all of that, she began feeling like this was all a constant, that he was a constant in her life. But he wasn’t.  
  
When the elevator opened and she walked out, she realized that she didn’t want to go anywhere.  
  
She wanted to go _home_. She wanted to be with Sandor.  
  
She turned around and pressed the button and got in immediately and waited for the elevator to take her where she belonged.  
  
If Sandor didn’t want her there, she would leave. She would never invade his space. She would talk to him and be with him only so far as to not have it affect their co-parenting plans. She needed to know if he felt the same way about her. In the off chance he didn’t, she would be devastated but she would accept it.  
  
The door opened and she sprinted to his apartment and rang the bell.  
  
No one answer.  
  
A sob tore from her throat.  
  
He didn’t want her.  
  
She didn’t belong here, after all.  
  
And then she heard the _ding!_ of the elevator and turned to him making his way to the door.  
  
“Sansa?”  
  
She had to say it. It was now or never. If he didn’t want her, she would leave this very instant and never hold it against him. But if he did….  
  
“Ask me to stay”  
  
All the walls of perseverance that she made around herself crumbled to the ground. She was bare, stripped naked of all her guards. If he rejected her, she would be wounded eternally. But she couldn’t let this go by. She had to know if he wanted her to stay.  
  
She dropped her bag when he came close and brushed her tears away and then he was holding her and she him, he was bending down and she rose to the balls of her feet to meet him halfway and something inside her shattered as his lips finally touched hers. Her hands sought purchase, wanting to hold him, bring him close, ground them here and now. She opened her mouth and his followed suit and it was beautiful and everything she wanted and she groaned. Their lips danced for a while before he pulled back. For a moment, she did not want to open her eyes. She wanted to live here, in this little cocoon of happiness for as long as she could.  
  
“Don’t leave me. Stay, please.” She heard him plead.  
  
Her eyes opened to find his stormy ones already on her. She nodded vigorously and spluttered through the tears and laughed and pounced on him with another kiss. He held her by the waist and she lifted herself as far as she could so that she could kiss every inch of his face, his lips, the beard that tickled her face, the bumpy nose, the ruined surface and the polished one alike. His arms came around her, trying to balance her the best he could with one arm in cast.  
  
“Stop, little bird, stop. My arm!” he said between laughter and she landed on the ground and looked up at him. His hands came up to cup her face and she turned her face and kissed the inside of the palm and nestled her face in the warmth of his hand. She looked at him and realized that she had never seen him this happy. His eyes were shining and his lips were turned upwards in the softest, purest smiles. She stood on her toes and attempted to kiss the smile and preserve it in her memory.  
  
He gave her a kiss on her forehead and picked up her bag and opened the door.  
  
Stranger ran out even before they got the chance to go in and he began running frantically around Sansa. He woofed at her like she had been gone for hours, not minutes. She laughed and crouched down on the floor, attempting to control him.  
  
Yeah. She was home.  
  
She belonged somewhere.  
  
………………………….  
  
She took Stranger inside while Sandor carried her bags in.  
  
He deposited them in the spare room while she locked the door and sat on the couch and played with Stranger. Sandor appeared in front of them, a nervous look on his face, his good arm rubbing the back of his neck.  
  
“I, uh, didn’t want to be presumptuous. I left your bags in your room.”  
  
She smiled at him.  
  
Then it hit her.  
  
This wasn’t that simple. She couldn’t just kiss him, violins playing in the background, and end up living happily ever after. They had kissed but they weren’t in a relationship, per se. The logistics of the arrangement began disturbing her.  
  
He must have noticed the crease in her forehead growing because sat down next to her and gently took Stranger from her lap and dropped him to the ground and moved closer to her.  
  
“You do not have to sleep in the same room with me, Sansa. I would never ask you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. You can take the spare room. It’s yours, as is.”  
  
“So, like move in with you?” she asked in a whisper.  
  
Moving in was a big deal. It involved a lot of planning. Her mother had told her not to move in with Harrold until the sixth month. Her mother, had in fact, insinuated an entire timeline of events that she had followed religiously. Four months, “I love you”, six, move in, a year and a half, engagement, two years, marriage, fourth, first child, seventh second and then stop. She followed it word for word and nothing good came out of it. That horrible human being cheated on her and she ended up getting pregnant with someone that she actually liked.  
  
“Not that, if you aren’t comfortable.” Sandor said, breaking her train of thought.  
  
“How about roommates?” she asked, looking up at him.  
  
For the past four months, her life had been a massive series of “just wing it”. And it hadn’t ended up in a disaster. Sure, everything that was happening in her life right now, the baby, Sandor, the kiss, _this_ , it was all unexpected. But she wouldn’t change it for the world. Maybe it was unheard of to be roommates with someone you liked, very much and someone you were going to raise a kid with but Sansa hadn’t felt like she was home anywhere but here and she would take what she had.  
  
She had spent her entire life living by what others wanted and expected of her. Her mother with the endless list of classes, her boyfriend with his endless shenanigans. Sansa had never done something for herself.  
  
This, Sandor, Bean, this was for her and she would take whatever decision she thought was right.  
  
“Yeah, like roommates.” He said with a wistful smile.  
  
There. He agreed.  
  
She didn’t need anyone else’s input.  
  
………………………  
  
She woke up to her alarm clock blaring next to her.  
  
Urgh. Mondays.  
  
After switching off the alarm, she spent a considerable amount of time online and then went to the en suite. After getting done with her morning routine, she padded to the closet in her towel and chose a black and white knee length dress. She was putting in on when she heard noise outside. She left her hair open to dry and walked to the kitchen.  
  
“Morni- uhhh”  
  
And just like that, she forgot how to speak English.  
  
If she thought Sandor in his army uniform was hot, he was devastatingly delicious in formal wear. She had seen him in formal wear before, when he had taken her to the clinic for sonogram. But his tie had been loose and his sleeves had been rolled up and though it was hot in its own way, this, this was illegally hot. A crisp white shirt clung to his body, not so much that the buttons look closed to popping but just enough to let you know that the man worked out, a lot! The pants hugged his thighs and did justice to that shapely ass. The red, sleek tie hanging off his neck beckoned her to grab it, pull him to the bedroom and never let him leave. His hair had been pulled back in a bun and she had heard that for some men, it looked hot but on him, it looked divine. And he was just standing there, looking like a Greek God, cutting fruits for her.  
  
“Good morning. I have a meeting today. Is it okay if I leave around 8 and drop you at the school?” He asked casually, his attention on the cutting board.  
  
“Uh, yeah. That would be fine. Yeah.”  
  
_Stop drooling all over the kitchen floor, Sansa._ she reminded herself and moved around him to help him with making breakfast.  
  
Sansa grounded herself by focusing on making his coffee and her tea. Once they were done, they settled on the either side of the kitchen counter. He sat with his laptop, working and she sat with her phone, checking the messages she had ignored.  
  
**Arya: Where u been?**  
  
**Sansa: Stayed at Sandor’s.**  
  
**Sansa: Probably will for a while now.**  
  
**Arya: Wait what? Ur moving in?**  
  
**Sansa: NO. No. I’m not moving in. We’re going to be roommates.**  
  
**Arya: Stfu that’s moving in. “Roommates” lol. My ass.**  
  
**Arya: On the hindsight, Ray owes me fifty bucks.**  
  
**Sansa: Were you betting on us?**  
  
**Arya: Oh so it’s “us” now huh?**  
  
**Arya: Also stop with the judgement. In this economy, I will take money wherever I get it from.**  
  
**Sansa: You’re impossible.**  
  
**Arya: Did you kiss tho? Because then I have to give that old man a twenty then**  
  
**Sansa: A lady doesn’t kiss and tell, Arya**  
  
**Sansa: You only have thirty now, just saying**  
  
…………………………  
  
They took things slow.  
  
Or, as slow as they could for two people who were going to be parents after a one night stand and were now “roommates” could be.  
  
Sansa brought over a few boxes of clothes and utilities, things that she needed if she moved somewhere for a month or so, not completely for relocation. A few things of hers remained at Arya’s place, like her winter gear, thermals, some of her shoes and other minor stuff.  
  
As much as Sansa loved living with Sandor, she was cautious about their newfound relationship.  
  
She knew he hadn’t been in a committed relationship before. She didn’t know what he expected from this relationship with her. He didn’t ever speak of having a family or getting married and given that Sansa was already making him do the former, she did not want to enforce him to the latter. She imagined that for someone who hadn’t been with a woman more than a night, a relationship would be out of their comfort zone. She did not want to invest too much, all at once, and have her heart broken.  
  
She didn’t want to repeat what she had done with Harry.  
  
It was best to take things slow and let the relationship work out as and when it had to.  
  
Sandor, for his part, seemed to be comfortable with the changes.  
  
He dropped her to school every morning before work and seemed happy to be coming home to her and Stranger after work. They spent their weekends together cooking food at home and watching old movies. She forced him to watch Notting Hill and he forced her to watch Die Hard and they took their time exploring each other’s interests. They even invited Ray over for Saturday afternoon and spent the entire day with the man, talking and laughing. She spoke to her father, promising to have him meet Sandor, now that he was doing better. No one besides Arya knew about her decision to live with Sandor. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of being with him but the last time she gave her parents an update on her life, it hadn’t gone well.  
  
She was also getting to know Sandor better, the man who now began occupying a huge part of her heart.  
  
She knew small things about him. Minute details. He liked having the kitchen towels draped across the slab each night before bed. He liked using lavender scented detergent for his linens. He liked going on run every morning with Stranger. He liked spice in his food, but not so much as to give him stomach burn later. He liked greasy food, but not too much. He had a soft spot for cheesy nachos. Mexican food was his favourite and he was indifferent to Indian cuisine. His wardrobe was predominantly grey, black, white and blue. And he liked chicken. “Would kill for it”, in his own words.  
  
She also knew that he claimed to not like Disney movies but if she played them, he would pretend like he was on his phone but would watch the entire movie from the corner of his eye. He liked reading, but not avidly. He was indifferent to political matter and didn’t take any opinion on any side, so far as they weren’t ruled by tyrants.  
  
He liked it when she gave out physical affection. He never told her explicitly but she knew he liked having her scrape her fingers casually on his hair. She had once been standing behind him, observing him cook when she had, without any intention, begun scratching his back lightly. She didn’t even know how much he liked it until she withdrew her hand and he immediately reached out and pulled her hand back and placed the palm on his back and simply said “scratch”. Ever since, there had been quite a few times when he fell asleep with his head on her lap, her running her fingers through his hair or scratching his back.  
  
Physically too, they took things slow. They kissed. A lot. In the morning, at night before sleeping and the hours between. When he dropped her at school, she would reach across the console to give him a little parting peck. When he came home from work, she would smile at him and he would sweep her off her feet with a bruising kiss. Sometimes while cooking, waiting for the sauce to cook or for the meat to cook in the oven, she would reach for him and give slow, languid kisses. Sometimes, they would abandon the television and spend the whole time making out like horny teenager. But Sandor would always pull away. Every time. She knew he wanted to take things slow so she let him but sometimes she wished he didn’t. That he’d let her kiss him as much as she wanted and move on to do other, more adult stuff. She didn’t know why he kept holding back. But she didn’t want to enforce him so she let it be.  
  
Sometimes, however, she would start overthinking. She knew it was one of the few bad tendencies that she had, her ability to over-analyse things but she couldn’t help herself.  
  
What if she hadn’t gotten pregnant? Would they have ever met under different circumstances? If yes, then did the pregnancy possibly hinder an alternate future of their relationship? If not, did that mean that their tastes were so incompatible that they couldn’t have possibly met if it weren’t for a drunken one night stand? What if they had sex, but she didn’t get pregnant? Would he ever be interested in her? Did that mean that Bean was a catalyst for everything? That without the baby, she would be nothing to Sandor?  
  
“Stop that.” She heard from above her  
  
“Huh? What?”  
  
They were cuddling on the couch, her watching Lucifer on the television and him dividing his attention between paperwork and the television. He had a crush on maze, he claimed but she knew he liked the storyline but was too arrogant to accept it. He was sitting upright, his leg resting on the table in front and she was tucked under his right arm, Stranger snuggling on her feet.  
  
“Stop thinking whatever you’re thinking.” He said, his gaze still focused on the documents in his hand.  
  
“How do you know I am thinking?” she asked, affronted.  
  
She turned her head up to give him her best annoyed look and noticed that he had kept the papers down on the table beside the couch.  
  
His hand came up from behind her body to rub her forehead. “Because you get these lines when you overthink. And you get this massive scowl on your face, like you are angry, but at an invisible entity.”  
  
She smiled at his observation and rose up to kiss him. Their lips met in a slow kiss and she felt his hand move across her body to gently cup the bump that was slowly becoming prominent. Her own fingers fisted around the soft tee he was wearing. When she pulled away, it was with a sigh and a soft smile.  
  
“What is going on in that head of yours, hmm?” he asked, flicking her cheek with his nose.  
  
Her previous musing came back to her and she sat back a little, turning her head to be able to face him fully. He straightened too, but his palm was still on her belly.  
  
“Would we be possible without Bean?”  
  
“What?” he asked, eyebrows pulled together and nose scrunched.  
  
“Just asking. What if I weren’t pregnant? Would you still be here? Kissing me on a Sunday afternoon, pretending not to like my favourite TV show? Or would we just have been a one night stand?”  
  
He seemed to give it some time to think on. For a whole minute, his gaze was focused on the wall behind Sansa. And then he looked at her.  
  
“Aye, we wouldn’t have been here without Bean.”  
  
She frowned, her heart breaking inside. So she was nothing to him? Just the mother of his child? Without the pregnancy, she wouldn’t mean squat to him?  
  
“But that’s the thing.” He said. She turned back up to look at him, listening to him explain why she wasn’t worthy being in a relationship with if not for the child growing in her.  
  
“I love our child so much more now because it gave me the opportunity to meet its mother, get to know her and …. Care for her.”  
  
She grinned at him. Sandor was a man of few words. For him to admit that he loved the child and cared for her meant so much more than all the empty words any bard could compose for her.  
  
She gave him a soft kiss on his lip and settled back against his warmth and focused on the show in front of her.  
  
Her hand met Sandor’s resting on her belly. She threaded their fingers together, resting atop their child.  
  
Her child wasn’t even born it, and it was already changing her life.  
  
She couldn’t be more in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First up, Next update won't be until 24th. I am sorry for the delay but I have a lot of work. 
> 
> About Game of Thrones, I couldn't be more disappointed. Sansa's ending was the only one I liked. I don't think any GoT viewer wanted a happy ending. Everyone I know anticipated complete annihilation to be the end of the show. I am so disappointed that in order to become edgy and unpredictable, the writers delivered a half-assed, rushed season with random character arc that make no sense in the light of the previous seven seasons. I can't believe this show has come from being rated 9.9 on imdb to 5.3. I feel like they have made a fool out of everyone who decided to invest their time and love into the show. Why would they build up Jon's parentage and Dany's whole journey only to butcher it at the end? Why give Jamie a character development at all? Why was Bran refusing to become Lord of Winterfell but is okay with being King? And if Bran can see the future, was he complicit with Dany burning down the entirity of King's Landing, just so he could become King? And didn't he consistently say that hes not Bran, he's the Three Eyed Raven? So why is he okay with being King Bran the Broken? I am heartbroken beyond words because I feel like this entire season was a mockery who ever expected David and Dan to deliver a good ending. All my hopes rest on GRRM now and for me, GoT ended with 6*10. 
> 
> However, I will not diss on the show and say that it was a mistake to have seen it in the first place. This has been a wonderful journey and I love the actors and the crew. I strongly believe there's nothing like GoT in the show realm. And props to GRRM. He has proved why things need to stay under the guidance of their creators and not a third party. 
> 
> What were your thoughts about this season and the last episode?


	17. Chapter Seventeen: Sandor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extremely sorry for the late update. 
> 
> Hope this fluffy chapter makes up for it.

When he envisioned his life, this isn’t how he saw it.  
  
He thought he’d die a recluse, a loner. Grey hair, ugly burnt face, sitting alone on a porch somewhere in a distant country, gazing off into the horizon. No wife, no child, no legacy left behind to mourn him. And he had made his peace with it. It was a better end than what any of his other family members had been graced with. His mother, with the disease that could have been treated, if it weren’t for his father wasting their money on booze and drugs, his father, overdosing at the ripe age of 42, his brother, a convicted criminal waiting on death row and his sister, a sweet, gentle soul murdered by her own blood. If Sandor died alone, at least he’d die with the knowing that unlike the rest of the Cleganes, he didn’t died being betrayed by his own family or due to his own vices.  
  
But now things were going in a different path. He had a woman in his life. And a child, soon. He would have someone to remember him and care for him beyond his living years. The thought of that warmed him; scared him too, he must admit.  
  
He didn’t know what to do when it came to the child. Sansa seemed to be handling the pregnancy just fine and for that, he was glad. He didn’t notice any physical discomfort in her and he knew that if she did, he’d do everything in his power to help her.  
  
She had begun showing a subtle belly. One that wasn’t very prominent under the dresses she wore to work but one he knew was there. He could see it in the tank top and sweatpants that she wore at home. Or in the short, enticing nightgowns that she wore sometimes. He knew the bump by the feel of it. When he had first felt it, he was standing behind her, watching her make tea and had circled her in his arms. His palm had felt the gentle swell of her stomach, a little firm mound and it was exciting. _His child was in there!_. Somewhere between then and now, he’d take every opportunity he could to snake his arms around her, place his large paws on her belly, rub the pad of his calloused fingers across its surface and feel the unbidden excitement and wonder at what was growing underneath.  
  
And with the novelty of the child, came its mother.  
  
Sansa Stark was becoming something to him, something he was unfamiliar with. An unchartered territory, if you will.  
  
He liked her. More than liked her, to be honest.  
  
He liked spending time with her. She had a gentle touch, her palm seemed to bless every surface they had been on. Sandor was a bit touch starved. There weren’t many instances when people touched him without the ulterior motive of harming him. First was his own father and brother and even later in the army, he felt as if he was spending his entire time trying to escape, run away from death. At home, it was the mortal danger of being present in the Clegane men’s company and in the army it was trying to get away from enemy fire. With his present lifestyle, he wasn’t often touched with love. Sure, he had his fair share of sex, but those were meaningless, with women he knew he had no future with. And Sansa would have been one of them, if it weren’t for the baby and for that, he was thankful. The more he got to know her, spend time with her, the more he felt himself becoming unguarded around her. If someone would have told him four months ago, that he found his soul at peace the most when he slept with his head on her lap, her fingers running through his hair, he would have laughed and then smacked the person on the face for being absurd. And now, it was actually true.  
  
He liked coming home to her sweet voice saying “Hey Sandor, how was your day?” and not even waiting for a response because he would almost always sweep her up for a kiss. She was irresistible and after having worked tirelessly the whole day, he loved coming back to her and kissing her. He liked waking up knowing that there was someone else in the house with him, besides his dumb dog, who he could spend the day with. He didn’t have to roam around the house curelessly or spend the weekend working on his laptop or in the gym. He could now spend it with her, who always came up with something creative to do. The other weekend, she had suggested having a picnic in the nearby part. He had snorted at her idea. It seemed silly to pack little sandwiches in a Tupperware and sit on the grass doing nothing. But she was insistent and a few kisses later, he had relented. They spent hours in the park, soaking up the sun, enjoying the serenity of the beautiful garden with fresh spring flowers and he had to admit, he enjoyed watching her in that knee length sundress on hers, basking in the sunshine. She looked absolutely godsend. He hadn’t missed the smile on her face, as she looked over the play area with a dozen or so kids running around, her palm tracing the child that grew in her. Sandor could envision a small, red haired boy running around among the other group of boys, his mother’s blue eyes watching the boy with alert eyes. She would make a good mother, of that he was sure. With himself, he had his doubts.  
  
He didn’t know what good parents, decent parents did with their kids. He didn’t know what he’d to reprimand his child in case they did something wrong. He didn’t know what was considered the normal way of punishing a child. He had more than enough memories of taking care of his injuries or sleeping in his car after a brutal night of beating and yelling and he knew he’d cut his own damn hands away before he raised them on a child, his blood or not. He didn’t know how to lovingly talk to a kid. He never had that himself. He didn’t know what fathers did with their kids on the weekend. If he was raised by a normal father, one that did not waste away his evenings getting drunk or high and then taking it all out on his children, he would have some idea of what normal fathers did with their kids. Did normal fathers help their kids learn how to ride a bike? Did fathers go to shopping mall with their kids? Did fathers have to talk to their kids every day and if so, for how long? Should he teach his kid how to do boxing? How to swim? Or were those things taught in school? Did he have to help the kid with homework? He could handle secondary school stuff but if the kid asked him about high school level chemistry or physics, Sandor would have to go for private tuition along with the kid. Did he have to teach the kid good moral values? Or was that taught in school? Fuck! Would he have to take the kid to sept each Sunday? Was he supposed to teach the kid about the Gods, how many ever were there? Sandor, very evidently, was in unchartered territory, battling an adversary he hadn’t countered before,  
  
_fatherhood._.  
  
…………………………  
  
“Deliver these documents to Legal and get those requisition notice from them, while you’re at it.” he said, passing the file to Podrick on his way to his cabin.  
  
The file contained details of the pregnancy, to be sent to Beric’s legal department to process his parental leave. Sansa and he had a long discussion of how much leave they would take and both had agreed to take a leave from the sixth month of the pregnancy until the fourth months after. Sansa had to go back to job at the earliest possible but Sandor could work from home and extend his paternity leave, if needed.  
  
The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Sandor took his lunch in the office, working through the last of the paperwork for their new valve clients. Towards the end of the lunch hour, his door burst open.  
  
“You’re pregnant?” a voice screeched.  
  
Sandor looked up to Tormund standing by the door, an ugly green shirt, which had probably never been ironed adorning his body. The man had his hair pulled back and that only served to exaggerate the astonished look on his face.  
  
Sandor sighed. He knew this would happen.  
  
“How do you know that?” he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose, battling the headache Tormund brought with his conversations.  
  
The man sauntered into the office and placed himself on the chair in front of Sandor’s desk.  
  
“Anne from legal told Malford, who told Osburn, who told Arriane and she told me.”  
  
So now everyone knew. _Great!_.  
  
Sandor wasn’t a man who likes sharing personal detail in workspace. Their office had several departments and with it came a massive amount of people working in the building whose boring desk jobs forced them to seek entertainment in each other’s life. Sandor wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t interested in what happened in other’s life and he sure as hell wasn’t going to share details of his life with someone.  
  
“Is it that redhead?” Tormund asked, mischief in his voice.  
  
“It’s personal, you cunt. What is it to you?”  
  
The man was unperturbed by Sandor’s words.  
  
“It is her, ain’t it?” he took Sandor’s silence as a confirmation and continued. “Knew that beauty wouldn’t hang out with you just like that. Gingers are irresistible.”  
  
Sandor growled and just then, his door burst open again.  
  
“Heard someone is to become a papa”  
  
Bronn stood by the door, a hand on his hip, his eyebrows raised in question.  
  
“Aye. He’s pregnant. With that _ginger beauty_ ” Tormund drawled.  
  
Bronn took it as an invitation to place himself in the chair next to Tormund.  
  
“Oh her! I knew it! You couldn’t have women drooling around you just like that! Although my guess was girlfriend at best. Not the mother of your child.”  
  
“Wait. Is she your girlfriend, or more than that? Did you get married without telling us?” Tormund asked, leaning forward towards Sandor, who was still trying to abate the oncoming headache.  
  
“If he were married, he’d invite us. Maybe make me the best man.” Bronn declared triumphantly.  
  
“Why do you get to be best man? I would be best man! Redheaded wife, ginger best man. It’s perfect. You’re the ring bearer, at best.” Tormund guffawed.  
  
The grown men began squabbling and Sandor wanted to smack them on the head. He briefly wondered if dealing with these two idiots would give him some child rearing experience.  
  
“Don’t you assholes have a job to do?” Sandor asked finally. The men stopped arguing, their stances rigid on the verge of physical combat. “I don’t know! A marketing department to handle, perhaps?” he continued, looking pointedly at Bronn and then moving to glare at the ginger scum, “or a development department to look over, hmm?”  
  
The men kept looking at him and Sandor enjoyed a brief moment of peace before Tormund said,  
  
“Look at this shit trying to disciple us. Save it for the pup, you mutt!”  
  
With that, the two men burst into laughter and Sandor sighed.  
  
_Was a little peace too much to ask in this office?_  
  
…………………………….  
  
When he opened the door that evening, his mood was decidedly ruined.  
  
“Hey babe. How was work?” a voice floated from somewhere inside the house.  
  
“Shit.” He said in simple terms and began taking his shoes off.  
  
He stood once he was done and began depositing the keys and his wallet on the table by the door. He felt hands on his arm and looked at Sansa, who had somehow appeared next to him.  
  
“Made your favourite. Ravioli. Thought we could have a nice little dinner tonight.”  
  
He smiled at her and just like that memories of Tormund and Bronn's annoying existence faded from his mind. She was wearing a simple grey shirt with black pants but she looked beautiful. He caught her around the waist, taking advantage of his newly freed arm and brought her close. She immediately tipped her face up and he rejoiced in the idea that she welcomed his kisses. Lips met in a brief kiss and she pulled back to give him a small smile.  
  
“Go change. I’ll set the table.”  
  
He gave her a parting kiss and made his way to his room to change. He came back wearing sweatpants and a loose tee.  
  
Sansa had set the table with two plates of ravioli with a small red candle burning in between. There were wine glasses placed next to the plates and he saw her pouring wine into his, her glass already half filled with the red liquid. He moved closer and raised his brows suggestively at her glass.  
  
“Cranberry juice.” She explained.  
  
They took their seat and clinked their glasses and began eating. For a while, they spoke about their day. Sansa had apparently filed a request for paternal leave and that Ollena Tyrell had asked her who the father was and had only briefly glanced her way when she said it was Sandor. Sandor recollected his account of the meddling colleagues and that sent Sansa into a fit of giggles. At least his misery bought a smile to her face, for what it was worth.  
  
When their conversation hit a dead end, they slipped into comfortable silence before Sansa spoke up,  
  
“Um, the next week we need to go for ultrasound. It’s the 20th week and according to the internet, we can find the baby’s gender. Do you, uh, want to find out or keep it a surprise?”  
  
Sandor was taken aback by the question. He never really thought about the gender. He was fine with having either, as long as they inherited more of their mother and less of him.  
  
“I don’t really know. Do you want to find out?”  
  
Sansa kept her cutlery on the table and folded her hands on her lap. “I am not sure. It would be nice to know it when the baby is here. It would be a pleasant surprise. But a part of me wants to be prepared. That way we can narrow down names and be mentally prepared for what is to come.”  
  
She was right. Both had their perks. He would be happy either way, so it was her decision really.  
  
“How about this? Let’s decide at the moment. If during the scan, you feel like you want to know, we’ll ask. If you don’t, we won’t.” he suggested.  
  
“Alright.” She said and smiled, her shoulders visibly sagging.  
  
The rest of the dinner was spent in idle conversation.  
  
Once they were done, Sandor took the plates away, thanking her for the delicious food. He washed the dishes and cleaned the counter and he was about done, he felt arms snaking around his midsection. He smiled at her feeble attempt at bringing her lean arms around his girth. He turned around in her embrace and found her looking up at him seductively, her lower lip half caught between her teeth.  
  
He bent down to capture the lip, the rag in his hands abandoned in favour of lifting her up to bring her to his height. He carried her back until she hit the counter, kissing her all the while. He settled her on the counter and her legs went around his waist, trapping him. Lips met in fervour, tongue tasting the inside of the mouth, hers a little sour from the juice and he drank her up. When he moved from her lip to suck kisses on her neck, he felt her hands snake underneath his shirt. His own slipped under her shirt and he began bringing her closer, grinding his raging hard on against her pelvis. Her left hand began scraping his back while the other caught hold of his head, holding him down on her neck. His own hands began venturing north and his fingers began exploring the lace of her bra. His fingers brushed over a peaked nipple and she threw her head back at the touch and moaned and he broke out of his trance.  
  
He immediately pushed himself away from her.  
  
Every fibre of his being wanted to go back, do more and earn more of those enthralling moans from her but he held himself back. She looked like a vision, lips swollen from the kisses and small bruises appearing on the neck, her shirt tucked out of her pants and her chest rising and falling in heavy breath.  
  
“Why do you always do that?” she asked, affronted.  
  
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He said, turning away, wanting to bar the image of her looking scrumptious while trying to will his penis to _calm the fuck down_.  
  
“You push me away every time we get beyond kissing. Why do you do that?”  
  
“I do no such thing.”  
  
He did not want to discuss this with her. She wouldn’t understand. He began walking away from her.  
  
“Is it because I’m not as….thin as I was before?”  
  
He stopped at her accusation.  
  
“The last time you had sex with me, the only time, was when I was dressed head to toe, a size 2, wearing a ton of makeup. Is this what this is about? I am fatter now? With saggier, bigger tits? Is that why you keep pushing me away?”  
  
He turned around, his eyes grounding on her.  
  
“What the fuck are you talking about?”  
  
“Then what is it, Sandor? You seem all too comfortable to make out but you push me away if it goes beyond that. Why do you do that? There is no other explanation other than the fact that you find me unattractive to have sex with-“  
  
“Because sex has always been meaningless for me.” He blurted, wanting to stop her absurd talk.  
  
She kept staring at him and he realized she was waiting for him to continue.  
  
“Because I never had sex with someone I felt for the way I feel about you. And I’m scared.” He said the last word in a whisper. “It’s so much more than physical now and I don’t know how to handle that.”  
  
His shoulders slumped in defeat.  
  
He saw her jump off the counter and walk towards him.  
  
She lifted a hand and cupped his scarred cheek and forced him to look at her.  
  
“What are you scared of, Sandor?”  
  
“You aren’t drunk anymore and neither am I. What if…. What if I mess this up somehow? Plus, you’re pregnant. What if I hurt you? I haven’t ever done this whole….relationship thing with anyone. I don’t know how it works. For me, it’s always been a quick fuck and done but this won’t be like that and I don’t know to deal with that.”  
  
“Sshh, calm down babe. It’s okay.”  
  
He closed his eyes and breathed through his nose, trying to regain his composure.  
  
“You need to stop overthinking this, Sandor. It’s just sex.”  
  
He opened his eyes, vulnerable pools of grey looking at her, begging her to see the scared man afraid of being left alone because of a stupid, dumb move that he couldn’t risk taking with her, a woman who was becoming the centre of his existence.  
  
“But it would be so much more than just sex with you. What if I screw it up.”  
  
She took his hand in the one that wasn’t holding his face. Her hands caught his in a tight, unrelenting grip. She rose to the tips of her feet and gave him a sweet, gentle kiss. She let go of his face and tugged him towards his bedroom.  
  
“We’ll never know until we try, will we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all know what's about to come next chapter ;) 
> 
>  
> 
> I have few job interviews lined up this week and updates may be a little slow.


	18. Chapter Eighteen: Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut and ultrasound. 
> 
> Gender reveal maybe?

She tugged him towards his room.  
  
He was still gaping at her, wide eyed.  
  
The lights in his room were switched on, the bed untouched. She pushed him by the shoulder to sit on the edge of the mattress and stood between his legs.  
  
She caught his face between her hands and took his lips in a searing kiss.  
  
The kiss snapped something in him and he finally began to move.  
  
She could feel his hands on her calf moving upwards. When she knew she had broken him out of his reserve, her own hands began roaming, exploring. His hands came to her ass, squeezing the cheeks lightly and she ripped her lips away from his to groan. His hands tugged her thighs, forcing her to sit on his lap, legs on the either side of his, body perched on his lap.  
  
Hands began scrambling, trying to take off each other’s clothes, neither willing to break the kiss and closeness to back away and pull their clothes off but both eager to get each other naked. Sansa tugged at his shirt, until he pulled it off himself with a growl and threw it across the room. He then began pawing at her shirt and she lifted her hands up to comply. They attacked each other with kisses, lips and tongues meeting in a battle of dominance and she began feeling a bulge swell under his sweats and grounded herself on it. His hands meanwhile, came up to cup her breast, squeezing them hard in fervour. Sansa moaned into his mouth in a mix of pain and pleasure.  
  
“Sorry” he said, hands completely still at her chest.  
  
“Just go a little easy on them” she said and went back to kissing him, unwilling to let this one thing break the moment.  
  
Sandor picked her up, hands under her ass and dropped her in the centre of the bed. He crowded over her, his massive body hiding her lithe form underneath. Sansa squirmed impatiently and Sandor grinned at her restlessness.  
  
“ _Sandor_ ” she whined, wanting him to do something, touch her, taste her, anything.  
  
He nuzzled her neck, leaving little kisses all over her chest, fingers lightly brushing the lace of her bra. She arched up, waiting for him to ravish her.  
  
“What do you want, little bird?” he asked, the words stretched, drawled, a torture to her aggravated senses.  
  
She grabbed him by the neck and pulled him close, kissing him harshly and working her way around the bra to take it off her. Once unclasped, she took it off and threw it across the room and pushed his face away, letting Sandor take a look at her. Distracted by the kiss, he didn’t know when she took her bra off and she smiled triumphantly at his shell shocked expression. She brought her hands around from his neck slowly and placed her palm on her breast, squeezing the left one between her fingers, tugging her own nipple, enjoying the look of surprise and arousal on his face. _So much for all that cockiness._  
  
“Fuck me, Sandor.” She whispered, huskily and he tore his gaze away from her chest to her face and then his face split in a menacing smile and Sansa felt arousal pool in her nether regions at the growl that emanated from his chest as he broke out of his reverie to get back to the matter at hand.  
  
Between nipping and kissing and grasping at each other, they took the rest of their clothes off and soon Sansa could feel his bare length bounce against her thigh. She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip at the sensation of his warmth touching her skin occasionally. A faint reminder of his size and girth from a night long back had her grasp his ass and bring his pelvis as close to her as possible.  
  
Sandor began moving south from the kisses he was laying on her chest. She felt him place his hands on the bed beside her waist, propping himself up to move down and as much as she wanted him to taste her, she wanted his length in her, without any further ado. She pulled him up by his shoulder, wanting him to come back up, to get to the deed.  
  
“We have time for that later. I want you to take me. Now!”  
  
She didn’t know what came over her. She was never this demanding in the bed. Even when they had sex before, Sandor had taken the lead, first eating her out and then fucking into her, hard and fast. Perhaps it was the hormones, driving her to the brink of insanity with her senses dialled to eleven and her arousal so high, she was sure she was going to come the moment he’d plunge into her. Maybe it was the fact that after their long build up, she was going crazy with all this pent up need. Or it could be that she was comfortable enough with someone, for the first time, to be able to dictate what she wanted and how she wanted it.  
  
Sandor was all too eager to comply and she felt him take himself in hand and line himself up with her hole.  
  
She grabbed at his shoulder, anticipating what was to come.  
  
When he moved into her, it was as if everything stopped around her and the only sensation was his cock moving inside her. She arched off the bed, her head thrown back as he kept plunging one agonizing inch after the other into her. When he was done, she felt him heave a breath. For a moment, everything stood still. She opened her eyes to find him looking at her already.  
  
“You’re stunning.” He said.  
  
She was naked from head to toe, not a stitch of cloth on her, bare under his gaze and his compliment still made her blush.  
  
He ducked down to kiss her and rolled his hips into her and they both moaned at the sensation. Sandor began thrusting into her, slow and sweet, his hips circling into her, sending little shockwaves of pleasure with each thrust, bending down to kiss her, nuzzle her face. Soon, it was all too much for Sansa and the pace of his movement wasn’t enough.  
  
She wanted more.  
  
“Harder. Faster. _Please!_ ” She moaned.  
  
He caught her waist and began plunging into her, driving her into the headboard of the bed, each thrust shaking her entire being. Each snap of his hip was accompanied by smacking sounds and the cacophony of their movements resonated through the room. Sansa began losing any sense of how to ground herself to him. Her hands moved frantically, grasping him around his shoulders, fisting the bedsheet, grabbing the pillows around her, pinching her own nipple but when she began feeling him swell in her, she brought her fingers down near the bundle of nerves, his movements setting the pace for her index finger.  
  
“Yes yes yes _like that! Right there baby!_ Right there! Sandor!” her speech reduced to incoherent mumbling and she squeezed her eyes shut and felt her legs tremble around his and pure white bliss washed her and she screamed his name.  
  
Through the haze of her own orgasm, she barely noticed Sandor snapping into her furiously and then coming with her name on his lips, whispered in a gasp.  
  
He rolled off her and settled on his back beside her.  
  
The room was filled with the sound of their laborious breathing. She felt exhausted, drained any of grain of energy, she turned into the pillow and snuggled into the smell of Sandor on his bedding. She felt movement beside her but she was too tired to pay attention. Soon, she felt a cloth clean her thigh and smiled at the thoughtfulness of her man. He placed the blanket on her naked form and moved to sleep beside her and Sansa shifted with an indulgent groan and snuggled into his chest, smiling as his arms came around her.  
  
She slept, enfolded in his warmth.  
  
………………….  
  
They sat in the waiting room of the clinic.  
  
Sandor was scrolling through his phone, his right hand intertwined with hers, resting on his thigh. They had become more forthcoming with physical affection since the night. Sansa hadn’t slept in her own bed since the night and woke up in Sandor’s arm each morning.  
  
Sansa fiddled with the magazine kept in the waiting room. She was nervous, a big fidgety, she had to admit. She was nervous about the ultrasound. It would tell a lot about the baby, about their progress and health. It would also tell the gender, something Sansa wasn’t sure if she wanted to know right now. Knowing it would make naming the child easier but it also be a pleasant surprise to find it out after the birth.  
  
“Sansa Stark?” a woman dressed in blue scrubs stood at the doorway.  
  
Sansa and Sandor followed the woman to a room. Dr Malroy was already in the room when they moved in. They greeted the doctor and began moving towards the bed in the centre. Sansa hopped on the bed, tucking her shirt out of the skirt and lifting it up and laid down on the bed.  
  
The doctor splayed the gel on her stomach and Sansa’s hand moved around and Sandor’s automatically found them and caught them in a strong grip.  
  
The image of their child appeared on the screen and the parents sat in awe of the kid. They could see a small nose, the tiny little feet, a cute little fist. Sansa began feeling tears prick her eyes and fought through the haze of her emotions to focus on the screen. The doctor moved the wand around, concentrating on the screen. Sansa had read that this ultrasound required the doctor to examine the development of the baby and that it could take time for the whole check-up to get done. The doctor finally looked at them.  
  
“Everything seems fine. Looks like you will be having a healthy child in no time.”  
  
Sansa released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Beside her, Sandor’s grip on her hand relented a little.  
  
“Would you like to know the gender?” the doctor asked.  
  
“Yes”, replied Sansa and Sandor immediately.  
  
She didn’t know what it was about the moment, but she really wanted to find out the gender of the baby. She could not bear to be unaware about her child for another four months.  
  
“You’re having a girl.”  
  
_A daughter._  
  
_A little girl._  
  
Red of hair, grey of eyes, a sharp nose, courtesy of her father, hair unbound in the wind, giggling as she ran behind Stranger.  
  
Black of hair, blue of eyes, riding her father’s shoulders, screams of excitement ringing in Sansa’s ears.  
  
A girl. A daughter she could paint nails with, teach how to braid hair with, bake cookies on the weekend with. A daughter, Sansa had no doubt, would be the apple of her father’s eyes. She could imagine Sandor growling at any boy who dared to come near her daughter.  
  
An angel Sansa already loved with every ounce of her heart.  
  
Sansa looked at the monitor. _Her_ little girl.  
  
Sansa smiled, oblivious to the horror etched on the face of the man beside her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter should be up tomorrow.


	19. Chapter Nineteen: Sandor

Images of his sister swirled in his mind.  
  
Eleanor Clegane was the centre of Sandor’s universe. She was his everything. Within six small years of his shitty life, they bonded over the mutual need to escape the older Clegane men. They would hide under tables together, huddled in the darkness, hands tight around each other’s. She told him he was her knight and she was his maiden fair, one he was sworn to protect. They would dream of running away to lands far away. They would find work, live in a small house, just the two of them. They would be together, safe, away from Gregor and their father. Every time he’d get beaten up, she’d patch him up and every time she was hurt, he would soothe her. They drew strength from each other and found solace in each other.  
  
Until she left him alone in that hell hole.  
  
When he heard he was going to have a daughter, her name was the first thing that came to her mind.  
  
Clegane women didn’t generally end up with a happy life.  
  
His mother was neglected and abused by her own husband. Left to die while her husband drank himself to death in some alley. His grandfather’s sister led a life of depravity, too poor to have proper food on her plate, with her brother spending all the money on drugs and gambling, was sold off in marriage to a man thrice her age for a handsome dowry. His own sister met a brutal ending at the hands of their brother.  
  
And now there was another woman with Clegane blood flowing in her veins.  
  
It would be all too easy to assume that Sandor could break the endless cycle of violence against women in his family.  
  
_What if he couldn’t?_  
  
He was the one who found her, lying on the ground, blood around her head, matting her beautiful ravel curls. He remembers shaking her, begging her to wake up. He didn’t have anyone. She was all he had. She was the only one who loved him in the house. She couldn’t leave him. He shook her with all his force, willing her to come back to him. He remembers coming back home after the funeral, waiting for it all to end, for him to wake up from this nightmare. It would end, it would end any moment; he would look up and she’d be standing by the door, their half broken dolls in her hand, ready to play. “Play with me, little brother”, she would say and they would run outside and play under their tree.  
  
He waited and waited and waited but she never returned.  
  
He spent his days under the shade of the tree, hoping that if he sat there long enough, he could somehow conjure his sister.  
  
Soon the spot became a haven, a feeble attempt at emulating the person he missed.  
  
He got in the car and shut the door. Sansa settled in her seat next to him and pulled her seatbelt on. She had noticed his distress while leaving the clinic but he had brushed it off. He didn’t want her to know that his brain was spiralling, filled with images of his sister.  
  
“Do you-“ he cleared his throat when his voice came out with a squeak. “Do you have anywhere to be now?”  
  
“No. I took the rest of the day off. Why?”  
  
He pressed the ignition key, mind already mapping the route he had to take.  
  
“I want you to see something.”  
  
…………………….  
  
“What is this place?” she asked, shutting the door of the car.  
  
Sandor looked around the property. A detached house stood in the front, the Wilfred children’s bikes leaning against the wall of the house on one side and clothes hanging on the line that stretched between the house and a pole to the right side. The place was a far cry from the shabby rat-infested house he grew up in. That one was bigger, having been passed on from three generations. Sandor didn’t bat an eye burning the place to the ground. The Wilfred family made a new home out of the place. He had met them several times over the years. James and Ana Wilfred were good kids, with bright future ahead of them and Sandor had made sure they had access to good schools and everything else they might have needed. He was glad the family were living there happily. He did not want this place to be remembered as the one that brought horror and pain.  
  
“I grew up here.” he said in a gravelly voice, walking towards the tree, Sansa following him close by.  
  
He stood in front of the tree, Sansa by his side.  
  
“This is all I have left of her.” he let out a shaky breath, controlling his emotions. “My sister, Eleanor.”  
  
He felt Sansa slip her hands into his.  
  
They stood there for a while, silence stretched between them.  
  
“Did you write that?” she asked, pointing at the ‘E’ carved on the tree.  
  
“Yeah. Didn’t have anything to give her on Christmas. Wrote her initials on the tree and gifted it to her. It was so stupid but she loved it so much.”  
  
“Do you want to tell me about her?” she asked, squeezing his hand gently.  
  
“She was my everything, Sansa. My mom died when I was young. Some illness the doctors could have cured, if it weren’t for my father throwing away all his money on alcohol. Between my father and my brother, El and I spent countless hours huddled together, trying to escape the elder Clegane men. It wasn’t easy living with those monsters but we had each other and we pulled through.”  
  
Sandor heaved a large sigh.  
  
“When Gregor-“ Sandor swallowed the lump in his throat. “When it happened, El took care of me. Sang to me through my fits of pain. Helped me swallow liquid food. Patched me up, the best she could. She was barely three years older than me but she was already taking care of me like a mother would have.” Sandor looked down, rubbing his feet on the ground. “Gregor was so angry that she was taking care of me. He tried coming for me when he was drunk and she pushed him away, as best as she could with her being a small thing and him being a beast of a man. He was drunk and he got frustrated with her trying to keep him away from the ‘molten fucker’, as he liked calling me since. He picked her up by the dress collar, took her to the roof and dropped her down like she was a ragged doll.” His voice broke by the end and he took a minute to breathe. “I was asleep through it but I found her in the morning. The image of her, lying there, eyes wide, blood everywhere haunts me to this day.” He closed his eyes and he could see her there again, eyes empty, staring at the distance. “My father sent Gregor away and his friends provided alibi. He told the police that she had wandered to the edge of the terrace in the darkness of the night. The police ate the whole story up, not even bothering to conduct an investigation.”  
  
Sansa shifted closer to him, the length of her side pressing against his.  
  
“Clegane women have never been happy, Sansa. My grandaunt, my mother, my sister, none of them were happy with the Clegane men in their life.” He turned towards her, clasping her shoulder and turning her to face him.  
  
“I want you to promise me, Sansa. If I ever raise a hand on our girl, or yell at her or treat her bad, if I ever turn into the monster the men in my family have always been, you take that girl and you walk away. You hear me?” he punctuated his question by shaking her shoulders mildly.  
  
“You walk away and you keep that girl from me. Don’t let me hurt her. _Please_.”  
  
Sansa kept looking at him, her eyes filled with tears. She blinked and they rolled down her cheeks. She lifted a hand to his face, cupping his burnt jaw.  
  
“You’re not them, Sandor. You’re a better man than the ones before you. You’re _my_ Sandor. You would never hurt our girl.”  
  
She pulled him in for a hug. He bowed down to rest his face on her shoulder.  
  
“Thanks for bringing me here, Sandor. I wish I could have met your sister.” She mumbled into his shoulder.  
  
When they separated, Sandor wiped her eyes with his thumbs, cradling her face in his hands. This woman now knew about all his vices, his deepest darkest secrets and for some fortunate reason, hadn’t gone running away from him. She stayed with him, lighted up his lonely existence with her laughs and her smiles and her gentle caresses. She accepted him at his worst and at his best. She woke up next to him like it was the greatest pleasure in the world and kissed him every morning, unaffected by the mess of ugly scars. She walked beside him, hands clasped together, Stranger trotting about them. And each night that he fell asleep, her in his arms, his growing child under his palm, he felt more at peace than he ever had. She took his pathetic, empty house and made a home out of it.  
  
He turned to the tree. If El were here, she would have loved Sansa. She would have loved her niece. She would have wanted her little brother to be happy.  
  
_I wish you could have met her, Eleanor. You would have loved her. Just as I do._  
  
……………………………..  
  
“Martha?”  
  
“Are we giving birth to an eighty year old? I had no idea.” Sandor chuckled from the kitchen.  
  
He heard pages flip behind him. "Elisabeth?"  
  
"Too common."  
  
"Olivia?"  
  
"I don't want my daughter to be named after Olives. Those sour bastards." he shuddered.  
  
"Mary-Anne?"  
  
"And suddenly my daughter wants to meet the manager. Neeeeext"  
  
Sansa picked up another book from the counter and flipped to a random page. This had become a routine of theirs now. Sansa had been on a wild chase for a name. She kept looking for names in magazines, books, newspapers, the internet, posters on the wall, everywhere.  
  
“Do you want a traditional name? A historic name? Or a millennial name like Amanda but with a silent ‘j’ hiding somewhere and a complex spelling that sounds nothing like the name? Or should we pull a celebrity stunt and name the kid after a random household item? ”  
  
“As long as the name makes sense, I am fine with anything, Little Bird.” He said dismissively, busy cleaning the dishes after their long Sunday lunch with the Elder Brother.  
  
“You are no help.” She said, coming his way from the living room.  
  
He dried his hands with a rag and turned around to face her, wanting to ask her a question he had been planning for a while.  
  
“Do you want to go out with me? For dinner?”  
  
Sansa stopped near the counter, her eyebrows rising, a smile on her face.  
  
“Are you asking me out?” she asked incredulously.  
  
“Yeah” he said, a little apprehensive.  
  
She came towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She rose on her tippy toes and placed a brief kiss on his lips.  
  
“You knock me up, good and proper. Have sex with me almost every night, practically have me living at your place and _now_ you want to take me out on a date?”  
  
He knew the idea was stupid but he really wanted to take her out, have a good time with her. People always spoke of candle lit dinners at fancy restaurants. Sansa and him were working hard, busy completing any work before they took their parental leave. They came home exhausted every day. He just wanted them to take a break, dress up fancy and go somewhere nice. He should have known it sounded foolish.  
  
“I love it! When should we do it?”  
  
Sansa was beaming at him. He smiled at her in return. Wasn’t such a stupid idea, after all, huh?  
  
“7 pm Friday? Wear something nice.”  
  
They kissed and when Sansa pulled back, her brows were furrowed.  
  
“I have this beautiful dress but it’s at Arya’s. I’ll go pick it up this week.”  
  
She leaned forward to kiss him again but Sandor pulled back, suddenly wanting to say something.  
  
“Get everything.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Get everything. Get all the little things you left behind. All your knick knacks. Get them all over here. Move in with me” he said, cradling her face, rubbing his thumbs over her cheekbones.  
  
She looked into his eyes with confusion and her face slowly morphed into a grin, her eyes crinkling in the corner. “Yes!” she exclaimed happily and squealed and Sandor lunged at her, capturing that grin off her face.  
  
_Fucking hell, I love her so much_  
  
………………………….  
  
Sandor sat on the lumpy bed in Arya’s spare bedroom.  
  
The little wolf had been happy to hear that they were going to have a daughter.  
  
“Can’t wait to teach her how to kick a guy in the nuts.” She had claimed, horrifying Sansa and pleasing Sandor.  
  
His keep-the-girl-celibate-until-thirty club was growing in number and he approved of it whole heartedly.  
  
Arya had left the apartment for some work and Sandor and Sansa had begun packing all the remaining things into boxes. There wasn’t much, some winter clothing and small things here and there. Sandor was looking through some of the childhood pictures Sansa had. In those one, Sansa was a chubby toddler, standing in a cute pink dress, a blue lollipop in one hand, her tongue out, showing the blue shade the candy left behind. Sandor smiled at the pictures. Sansa’s face had become sharper since but the eyes and the nose were the same. The hair had become a shade darker with age. Staring at her pictures, Sandor hoped with all his heart that his girl would inherit everything from her mother. The cute button nose, the pink lips, high cheekbones, arched brows, the red hair, the mesmerizing ocean blue eyes, _everything_. He hoped she would be kind, gentle, sweet, forgiving, strong and intuitive like her mother.  
  
The doorbell rang and Sansa called out “I’ll get it” from the washroom where she was retrieving some hair products she had left behind.  
  
He heard the door open and began piling all the pictures from the heap in front of him. It was getting late and Sandor wanted to go home soon.  
  
When he didn’t hear voice coming from outside, he got up to check who it was.  
  
“Little Bird, who is –“  
  
The words died in his mouth.  
  
Standing at the door was a tall woman, hair the shade of Sansa’s, perhaps darker, hollow cheekbones, a sharp jawline, azure eyes wide open. Sansa held the door open, staring at the woman in front of her. Sandor didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to guess who the woman was.  
  
“Mother?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Olives don't @ me. 
> 
> Oooooooo cliffhanger.  
> hehehehe.


	20. Chapter Twenty: Catelyn Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mother and her worries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I wrote several alternative endings to the story and this one stuck. I will explain all the other endings in the end notes. Also there will be announcements in end. 
> 
> Also, thank you everyone for the kind comments on the previous chapter. Reading each one of them brought a smile to my face and I send love out to all of you reading this fic. x
> 
> Going forward to read the chapter, please remember that everyone has good and evil in them :)

“Mother?”  
  
The Tupperware in Catelyn’s hands almost fell down.  
  
She had called Arya a day before and when her younger daughter hadn’t been able to recount the last three meals she ate, Cat knew she hadn’t eaten anything proper in a while. She spent the whole day making two batches of lasagne, the way Arya preferred it, with minced beef and extra cheese. She was done earlier than she assumed she would be, and decided to show up at Arya’s house prior to the time previously agreed upon. Perhaps that way, she would get more time to check on Arya. And if she caught her daughter off-guard, she could also asses the state of the apartment as it usually was, without the young lady having the time to shove everything in the closet.  
  
Arya had reluctantly told Cat that Sansa had moved out few weeks ago and that she was now living with a friend. She assumed it was the Jeyne girl that Sansa had moved in with. The fact that the cleaner of the two sisters moved out bothered Cat and she knew that without her elder sister, Arya wouldn’t take the trouble of cleaning the apartment or cook for herself.  
  
But now, standing before her was Sansa. Her cheeks a little puffier, her hair shinier than Cat remembered, her skin flush and glowing and her stomach enunciating the reason for the aforementioned changes. She was clad in jeans and a flannel over a shirt. She held the door open with one hand, the other resting on her back.  
  
Cat’s first instinct was to reach out, bring that girl into a hug.  
  
Her little girl, her first daughter, the apple of her eye was standing there, pregnant herself, with Cat’s first grandchild.  
  
But then she remembered that this was also the girl who went against the very basic rules Cat had asked her to follow. She had grilled the importance of marriage and stability into the girl’s mind ever since she had been able to understand the world around her. If she had her way, she would implore Sansa to remain a virgin until marriage but times had changed and Cat had modified her beliefs to suit the changing trends of the society. This, however, was beyond acceptable.  
  
A child outside wedlock was sacrilegious. With marriage, came assurance, stability, a promise of being together through better and worse times. In a marriage, there was a guarantee that both the spouse would be responsible for the child, mentally, financially and physically. That if something were to happen, the child would have at least a parent to lean on. Not having that declaration of responsibility gave the biological parent the right to refuse taking any obligation towards the child, financially or otherwise. Children raised in the bonds of marriage were far more secure than those raised in other circumstances.  
  
Everything in life was to have a pattern. One cannot go from point A to point Z without having to cross the 24 points in between.  
  
The bond between the parents affected the child throughout their life. Broken marriages and divorces scarred children, let alone relationships that weren’t formed to the completion before marriage. To have sex outside of established relationships itself was improper, let alone conceive by one. That was something people without education, without proper rearing did. If one were to venture to the downtrodden parts of the city, where chastity, propriety and manners weren’t emphasized upon, pregnancies out of wedlock would be common. But in households such as Starks and Tully, ones which traced their descent to kings and lords of the past, such things were frowned upon.  
  
And here her daughter was. A back alley woman, pregnant after one night of bawdy entertainment.  
  
Catelyn Stark straightened her back.  
  
“Is Arya home?” she asked, with practiced voice of a mother scorning her child.  
  
“N-no. She went out for some work.”  
  
“Very well.”  
  
She turned to leave the building. If Arya wasn’t here, she would sit in the car and wait until she came back. Perhaps she could visit a coffee shop and have some tea.  
  
“Mother, wait.” She heard Sansa call for her even before she could descend the stairs.  
  
She wanted to leave, walk away. The last time she spoke to her elder daughter, it had been a disaster. Her relationship with Sansa was damaged, but it had also affected Ned and her. He had stopped talking to her, had slept away from their bed for the first time in the three decades of their marriage. Rickon had come home from that foolish hospital visit, honey dripping from his tongue about the horrendous man who had defiled her daughter. Ned and her had barely come back to civil terms, not out of mutual agreement but out of the need to raise their two children cordially at home. She didn’t want to threaten the fragile bonds of her marriage once again. And that is precisely why talking to Sansa would not be productive. No good would come out of it. Sansa and her could never see eye to eye when it came to her spawn.  
  
But she was a mother. A mother five times over, each time equally rewarding and magical. Sansa was her childhood dream, her little girl who she could raise just the way she had wished her mother would have raised her. Cat herself had felt the absence of her mother her whole life. She swore, at a very young age, that if she ever had kids, she would always be there for them. When they placed little Sansa in her arms for the first time, body oiled just then, a thatch of red hair on her head, lungs screaming to the world demanding recognition, she had known that this was the happiest she could ever be. “Mama” was the first word that Sansa had some. (Robb might argue his name was the first but in all honesty, “Obb” is hardly a word and does not count in Cat’s opinion). Now that same girl was calling out to her, and Catelyn couldn’t find it in herself to walk away.  
  
She turned slowly, her eyes closed, breathing heavily.  
  
“Mother, please. Come in.” Sansa begged.  
  
_How could she say no?_  
  
She gave a curt nod and moved into the apartment.  
  
Cat was right, the whole place was a mess. Clothes were thrown about on the couch, papers and take out boxes lying on the floor, earphones and remotes thrown on the table. No one could tell if Arya inhabited the place or possums.  
  
“Sorry the place is a mess.” Sansa chuckled. “We were going to clean up after we were done.”  
  
_We?_ Arya wasn’t home. Who was _we_?  
  
Catelyn looked around and spotted a man standing by the door of the bedroom.  
  
_So this was the man!_  
  
A scarred, ugly man. That was the father of her first grandchild was. Wild, unruly black shoulder length hair, draped in a frail attempt to hide the mess of scars on the left side of his face. He had probably had some reconstruction done but the extensiveness of the scar was ghastly nonetheless. Broad and large and positively gigantic. He looked to be older than Sansa. In his late thirties, perhaps. There was no trace of grace and beauty in his bearing. And a trademark scowl in place. Just the kind of man who seemed like he would kill people for fun. A history of violence, she could practically smell it on the man.  
  
This was who Sansa thought she wanted to raise a child with?  
  
Unhindered, Cat scrunched her face.  
  
What a step down from Harrold Hardyng.  
  
What a shame.  
  
The man seemed to not have taken Cat’s reaction positively, for his scowled deepened and he balled his fists.  
  
_Go ahead. Punch me. That’s probably the kind of chauvinistic violence you have seen in whatever swamp you grew up in._  
  
Cat turned her body to Sansa.  
  
“This? This is him? This is the man you want to raise a child with? The child you have wanted since you were old enough to want anything?” she motioned from the man to Sansa’s pregnant belly.  
  
“Mother, please-“  
  
“Aye. This is who she wants to raise a child with.” The man responded. God, even his voice suited his demonic visage.  
  
“Oh is it?” Cat said, raising her brows, taking slow, measured steps at the man. “You think you are a father material, hmm? Been raised by stellar father figures now, have you?”  
  
The man visibly flinched, his fists becoming tighter, knuckles almost white.  
  
“MOTHER!”  
  
Catelyn whirled around to glare at her daughter. Her Sansa, the one that she raised with manners befitting a queen would never raise her voice at her mother.  
  
“Do not talk to Sandor that way. I have seen you berate and abuse anyone who dares to live a little outside of what you consider appropriate and I will not stand here while you speak ill about the father of my child.”  
  
Cat was taken aback. This was not the kind of response she could have expected from her daughter.  
  
“I invited you in to talk to you, mother. I thought that perhaps the last time we got off on the wrong foot and maybe we could try again. But you clearly are adamant about the whole….situation so I will leave it be.” She drew out a long breath and continue. “You can choose to leave or stay, we will pack our things and leave.”  
  
Sansa moved past her, to reach the man, placing a hand on his shoulder and guiding him to the room inside.  
  
“You would choose him over your family?” Cat asked in disbelief.  
  
Sansa turned around very slowly, her hand coming up to cup her belly. “No mother, I choose _my_ family over your misconstrued notions of propriety.” It didn’t escape Cat’s notice that Sansa’s hand on the man’s shoulder was pressed firmly in emphasis.  
  
“I feel sorry for Jon every day now, mother. Because if someone were to treat my child the way you treated him, I would have never forgiven myself. That boy didn’t have anyone and it was so easy for you to pick on him, demean him. But my child has a mother, who will go through the depths of hell before she even lets her child feel pain.”  
  
The mention of the bastard, that stung. Sansa didn’t know what she was talking about. Cat was barely 19, just married to the man she had her eyes on for years. And before she even had the chance to build a household with him, settle with him, there was another child of another woman that she had to take care of. Lyanna Stark slept with a married man and now it was up to Catelyn to raise her mistake. Catelyn was young, inexperienced. She had wanted some time before she could devote herself to motherhood and here she was, changing diapers of a baby she hadn’t even asked for. And even when she had Robb, Jon was omnipresent. Always there, always a threat to her son’s existence. Sansa had no right to comment on things she didn’t understand.  
  
“How dare you?” Cat hissed. “You know nothing of what you’re talking about.”  
  
“Perhaps I don’t, mother. But what reason could you have that was possibly justify years of pain and hurt the boy suffered? He had no fault for his birth and you mistreated him for his mother’s mistakes. What guarantee do I have that you will not hurt my child because of what you think are my mistakes?”  
  
“You were not supposed to do this! You were raised better! You were supposed to get married to a handsome young man and have children. Not this way!” her voice raised with each word and by the end of the rant, she was positively seething with anger.  
  
“Says who? You and your order of the Seven?” Sansa asked. “Did it ever occur to you that I might be happy about this? That perhaps, yes, the pregnancy was accidental and unforeseen but the baby, as you said, was something I had always wanted since I was old enough to want anything? When I came to you and Dad that day, all I wanted was support, a shoulder to lean on and you as parents were supposed to do that. But you didn’t. Sandor did. He had no obligations to me but he took care of me. And he stepped up to the role of the father. I have come so far since that day, mother. I am taking responsibility for my action and growing into the role of parenthood. It’s about time I make my own calls. And I am happy, mother. I am genuinely happy after so long. And Sandor makes me happy. Our girl makes us happy. And if you can’t be there to celebrate my newfound joy then I don’t think I want you to be a part of my life.”  
  
Girl?  
  
A daughter?  
  
A granddaughter?  
  
“You’re- you- you’re having a girl?” Cat stammered.  
  
Sansa’s features visibly softened.  
  
“Yes, mother. We just found out few days ago.”  
  
Cat felt tears pool in her eyes. A girl! A sweet little mini-Sansa.  
  
Family had always been the centre of Cat’s universe. Even when Rickon came home smelling like he had bathed in cigarette ash, Cat found it in herself to forgive the boy and help him leave his addiction. Even when Robb came home with Talisa, announcing that they were married, Cat forgave Robb for his adventurous union, albeit after a long time. Every time that Arya was unruly, which was all too frequent, Cat reminded herself that she, of all her children, was the true scion of the Stark family and it was just the wolf in her blood. Family had always been her weakness.  
  
And that baby, notwithstanding everything else, was her family, her blood.  
  
Cat was still angry, very angry and disappointed with Sansa.  
  
But this was her granddaughter.  
  
“Oh, Sansa.” Her voice came out in a whisper.  
  
Sansa began walking towards her slowly and Cat covered the rest of the distance to envelop her daughter in a hug, her granddaughter pressed lightly between them. Tears flowed out of Catelyn’s eyes freely as she squeezed her daughter gently.  
  
When they separated, Sansa had tears in her eyes too.  
  
“Can we talk Sansa, please?” Cat asked gently.  
  
Sansa nodded and turned back to the man who was standing at the doorway through all of this. Cat saw as Sansa gently put her palm on the man’s shoulder, whispered something in a low voice and rose to kiss him lightly on the cheek. The man’s shoulder sagged as Sansa spoke and he nodded and went inside the room, closing the door behind him.  
  
Catelyn walked to the kitchen and put a kettle on boil. She prepared some tea for her and Sansa and settled on the couch with two mismatched cups.  
  
“I don’t know what to say, Sansa.” Cat confessed. “I still do not agree with this whole…..situation. I really wish you would have gotten married first. To someone good looking and young. And from a noble family like ours. I look forward to meeting my grandchild, I really do. But I can’t agree with this arrangement, Sansa.”  
  
“Mother, give Sandor a chance. He is a good man. I know this is not what you expected and I didn’t too but this has been a blessing.”  
  
“It’s not about that Sansa. Look –“ Cat kept her cup on the table and reached for Sansa’s hands. She clasped them in hers. “Even if he is stepping up to the role of a father, what if he backs out? What if he decides that he doesn’t want to do this and he leaves? When you’re married to someone, it gives you an assurance that they will be there for you, no matter what. But with these kind of arrangements, the men have a hall pass. They can leave whenever they want.”  
  
“Sandor is not like that, mother. He really cares for me and the child. He truly does.” Sansa sighed heavily. “I wasn’t happy with Harry, mother. I always felt like, with him, I was checking off tasks from a list. I was moving in the relationship very robotically, like I had been preconditioned to. With Sandor, it’s different. We started off as friends, two people who agreed to raise a child together. But it’s changing now. We are – I don’t know – together? In a relationship? We haven’t decided with labels as of yet. But it’s going somewhere. And I am happy with him, mother.”  
  
“But Sansa….he looks so…..hideous. And large. And ungainly.”  
  
“Mother.” Sansa chastised gently, squeezing her hand. “He is also very caring. And kind. Compassionate. And very hard working. You should see him when he works! He gets these little frown lines and its downright adorable. And he is very considerate about my needs. Isn’t that what any parent wants from their child’s partner?”  
  
Cat gaped at her daughter. Caring? Kind? _Adorable?_ Were Sansa and Cat talking about the same person?  
  
Cat noticed the blush that was overtaking her daughter’s face. She also noticed a bruise few inches under her right ear. Oh Lords above!  
  
“I see you have been having a good time with him” Cat looked suggestively at the bruise.  
  
Sansa fiddled with the collar of the flannel and her face became even more red.  
  
“Uh, Sandor and I have been living together.”  
  
“Sansa!” Catelyn scolded.  
  
“It’s not like you think it is, mother. We lived under the same roof for weeks before we began…..sharing a bed. That’s what I meant. He never forces me to do anything with him. He’s a good man. Please give him a chance, mother.”  
  
Cat sighed. The neglect that Sansa had towards her upbringing and her values bothered Cat. She would have to go out with her friends on Friday brunch and her daughter’s misconducts would soon become the talk about all the ladies. And that man. He was a far cry from anything Cat had ever envisioned her daughter ending up with. But her anger wasn’t leading to anything. Ned had already accepted Sansa and so had the rest of the family. She could hold on to her grudge but she would lose a daughter and a granddaughter in the process and Cat couldn’t let go of that. Perhaps Cat could be civil with the man, to the barest extent and that would still assure her access to her grandchild and her daughter.  
  
“I must admit, Sansa. I still do not agree with your decision.” Sansa was about to speak but Cat spoke over her. “But you’re giving me a grandchild and motherhood is difficult and I want to be there for you. I never felt the absence of my mother more than when I was to become one myself. I cannot possibly leave you in a time like this.”  
  
“I don’t need you to approve of Sandor, mother. I just want you to respect my choices.”  
  
Cat considered the notion for a moment.  
  
“How about we try slowly, hmm?” she asked, brushing her hand on Sansa’s hair. Her daughter smiled and nodded.  
  
“I think I’ll go pack. It’s getting late and we both have work tomorrow.”  
  
“Sure. I’ll go put these in the fridge and clean up the kitchen a little.” Cat said, signalling towards the food.  
  
Sansa spent a while collecting things and putting them in a box and then taped all the boxes. When they were done, Sansa asked Cat to text her and meet up with her soon. Apparently, she would be taken maternity leave in two weeks and would be free to meet after. Catelyn gave her some tips on sleeping positions since laying down while being heavily pregnant could be cumbersome. And judging by the size of the father, the baby was not going to be small.  
  
While Sansa and Cat spoke in the kitchen, the man hefted all the boxes to the car. Cat caught him arguing with Sansa several times about carrying heavy boxes and he relegated her to simply carrying her purse and a small bag.  
  
“Why don’t you go sit in the car? I will get the last of the boxes. Check and let me know if anything is missing.” The man said while carrying a box in his hand.  
  
Sansa checked everything and bid Cat goodbye.  
  
The man came in to collect the last of boxes and Cat turned her attention to the dishes piling on the sink.  
  
“Mrs Stark?”  
  
She heard the man call her from the door. She sighed heavily. She accepted her daughter today but that didn’t mean that she was still very angry with the man. She did not want to talk to him. she turned around reluctantly.  
  
The man was carrying a box in his arms. It was small and barely covered the width of his chest. The man’s hair was pulled into a bun and his scars were on open display.  
  
“I do not expect you to approve of me. I don’t give a rat’s ass about your approval.” Cat flinched at his cussing. He continued, unperturbed. “Sansa told me everything you said about her that day. I was the one who picked her up from the middle of the street, freezing in cold, when you kicked her out. I have seen what your words do to her.” He took a slight step towards the house and Cat wanted to shrink back. “But if you hurt her now, or even worse, if you do anything to my daughter, now or in the future, I will rip you apart with my bare hands.”  
  
The man turned to leave.  
  
“Sandor Clegane?” she called out.  
  
He turned around, his face still furious.  
  
She had to know. Above everything else, she was a mother. She might have high expectations from her children, Sansa utmost, but at the end of it all, she just wanted them all to be happy. Every parent wanted their child to be happy.  
  
“Do you love my daughter?”  
  
The man stood there for a moment and then scoffed.  
  
“I don't care about your approval of me, too, Mr Clegane. But whether I like it or not, my daughter and her daughter are in your care now. So i ask again, do you care for my daughter? I need to kn-“  
  
“Aye woman.” He bellowed at her and then continued in a softer tone. “I do.”  
  
Without any more words, he turned and left. His heavy footsteps echoing outside the apartment.  
  
_What a peculiar man._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of,  
> I got a job and Eid is coming up. So updates will be regular, but not as frequent as before. I apologize for that. 
> 
> Now, about the alternate endings,  
> Initially I wanted Sandor and Cat to fight but as entertaining as it was, I wanted Sansa to take a stand because she is becoming more assertive now. Another ending was that Sansa fights with her mom and leaves but at the end of the day, they are daughter and mother and creating unnecessary tension would create good angst but won't be productive. Another was to have Cat become angry and stomp off but as angry as Cat is, she is bound to melt a little when she hears about the gender because the words of House Tully are Family, Duty, Honor. Also, given that Cat lost her mom and raised younger siblings all on her own, I would think that no matter how angry she is with Sansa, she wouldn't abandon her. Then again, making everything good between them wouldn't be realistic because Sansa cannot let go of the hurt so soon and will stand by her decisions and Sandor and Cat is still mad about the whole thing. So i left some mild angst.  
> Another ending to the story was Sandor going on a huge rant about how much he cares for Sansa. But he is a private person. He wouldn't bare himself out to an unknown woman like that.  
> So this is what I went with. There is underlying tension but Cat and Sansa want to work on it.


	21. Chapter Twenty-One: Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 100% fluff. 
> 
> That's it. That's the summary.

She pulled the zipper of the dress and twirled around to observe herself in the mirror.  
  
The black bodice of the dress hugged her figure and flowed freely a few inches under her breast. The dress was loose enough to accommodate her growing size and the flow of the skirt only helped the belly which was now quite pronounced. The dress was black with the upper portion having lacework on it. Her hair was up in an elegant bun. She went light on the eye makeup but made up for it with a bold red lip. Jewellery was minimal, just studs and rings on her fingers.  
  
She sighed at her reflection.  
  
It had been so long that she had dressed for a date.  
  
With Harry, in the initial period, she did dress up and go out. They went to quite a few extravagant parties that required her to go shopping frequently and spend a good chunk of her savings on evening gowns. After a while, the parties had lost their charm. The initial hour of the party was still fun – the women eyeing Sansa with envy and the men with barely concealed lust. Entering a party was the best part of the whole evening. All heads would turn to the door and Sansa knew that Harry, ever handsome and her, created quite the sight. But towards the end of the relationship, there weren’t any intimate dates between them. They went to social gatherings together but there was no quite moment that they shared amongst themselves.  
  
Even after the break up, when Arya would drag her to clubs and bars, she only got dressed in jeans and shirts. Nothing fancy.  
  
So yeah, this whole charade of getting dressed and going out for a quite evening was new and Sansa looked forward to it. She had taken hours to get dressed. First she took a long shower, complete with face masks and shaving and a DIY manicure. Then she spent hours blow drying her hair and tying it up in a beautiful bun, following the tutorial step by step. It took her a long time but looking at herself, she had to admit it paid off.  
  
She contemplated wearing heels but settled with ballet flats. She didn’t want to have sore feet by the end of the night. She grabbed her purse, stuffed it with lipstick, dabbing powder and her wallet and walked out of the room.  
  
Sandor stood at the kitchen counter, sipping on a glass of water. He wore a grey dress slacks and a white shirt. The shirt was buttoned, save for the topmost one and its sleeves were rolled up to his forearms. His hair was slick and pulled back.  
  
He stopped the glass hallway to his lip when he saw her. He kept the glass down and gave her a wolfish grin. Having spent enough time with him in bed, she knew what that grin meant and when he walked towards her and swept her off her feet for a bruising kiss, she wasn’t in the least bit surprised and was only glad that her lipstick was matte.  
  
“You look ravishing, Little Bird.” He declared once her feet touched the ground.  
  
She smiled at him and bit her lower lip. “How about we have some dinner first and you can ravish me later?” she asked with a wink.  
  
They drove up to the restaurant, with the radio crooning between them. He had only asked her to dress nice and hadn’t disclosed where he was taking her. As giddy as she was about their date, she was impatient to see what the surprise was. Not surprisingly, he began driving to the centre of the town into the business district. When he began going into the underground parking of the Edgeworth tower, she knew where they were going. The restaurant on the 60th floor of the tower was the fanciest place in the entire city. She had been there a handful of times but always in the company of her parents, usually with a business partner of her father. Her parents had come here for their 25th wedding anniversary.  
  
“Are you taking me to the Leopold Restaurant?” she asked, excited.  
  
“Mr Edgeworth’s husband is a client of ours. I asked him to get us a table.” He said, parking the car.  
  
Sansa squealed with excitement which earned her an endearing smile from the man seated next to her. He parked the car and practically bounded to her side of the door in a haste to open the door for her. He opened the door and offered her his hand. She giggled as she stepped out of the car, feeling like a pampered woman.  
  
They entered the elevator and the man standing in the elevator kept staring at Sandor. More specifically, at his scars. Having been in his company for a while now, she was tired of people staring at his scars. People had no subtlety whatsoever. They were halfway to their floor when Sansa wanted to ask the man to quit staring. She could feel Sandor resolutely fixing his gaze on the door in front, posture tense. Not ready to take any more of the stranger’s shit, she rose to her tips, tugged Sandor down by his sleeve and kissed him square on the mouth. When she pulled back, she wasn’t sure whether Sandor was more surprised or the man. She pointedly glared at the man as if to say _are you done gaping at my man?_ and then clutched Sandor’s hand tightly in hers and pulled him away from the elevator when it stopped on their floor.  
  
They were brought to their table, which was near the glass windows, giving them a beautiful view of the city. They sat next to each other on the round table, sparing no space between their chairs. Sansa got herself herb crusted halibut and Sandor ordered Wagyu beef steak. Sansa knew wines would be well paired with Sandor’s order but knew he wouldn’t order alcohol since she couldn’t drink so she smiled kindly at him, ordered wine for him and a citrus mocktail for herself. The food was, to no one’s surprise, utterly delicious and their conversation never stopped. They sat there for what felt like ages and even shared a slice of lemon cake, though Sansa had to admit she ate most it. They held hands throughout the dessert and their legs remained tangled ever since they were seated.  
  
On their way back to the car, Sansa leaned on his shoulders in the lift, a grateful smile grazing her face. She sighed heavily. This was one of the most romantic dates she had ever been on. There were no major gestures involved, apart from being taken to the most expensive restaurant in the city, of course. But it was the company that she loved the most. Sandor was a gentleman throughout the evening. Their conversation, to anyone else, would have seemed mundane. Sandor was recounting his office tales with his colleagues giving him fatherhood tips. Davos was the only one in them who had a family, a massive one at that, with seven sons and his adopted daughter Shireen. He was the one, who ironically, gave Sandor no advice, only saying that he would ‘learn along the way’. The rest, including, Tormund and Bronn had given him fatherhood advice despite never probably having changed diapers in their life. Sansa had laughed at some of the ridiculous things the men said. Sansa had in turn told him about the kids in her class who were very inquisitive and curious about her baby. It was all too adorable and Sansa had to admit that she would miss her class over the span of her parental leave. It was all normal conversation, nothing too exciting or special. But they both enjoyed listening about each other’s lives and somehow, Sansa found that very endearing.  
  
“I wish the night never ended.” She wondered aloud when Sandor opened the door of the car for her. He stood and considered her statement for a moment before tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ears and kissed her softly with a smile.  
  
He got into his side of the car and began driving. When they got home, he held her hand as she tried walking towards her room.  
  
“Wear something comfortable. The date’s not over yet.”  
  
He kissed her and went to his own room. Sansa was perplexed. She thought the night was over. Nevertheless, she wasn’t going to complain about spending more time with him so she went to her room and changed into sweatpants and one of Sandor’s shirts that she had borrowed and definitely not stolen. It took her a while to take her makeup off and she decided to let her hair out of the bun and in a simple low ponytail. When she walked out into the living room, Sandor was tying Stranger’s leash and hauling a gym bag over his shoulders, clad in a soft tee and jeans. Sansa raised a brow but Sandor merely shrugged and led her out. He led them to the car and stuffed Stranger in the backseat who seated himself near the window like he was some sort of pseudo human. As they drove to wherever Sandor wanted to take them, Sansa began noticing that the landscape was changing. She saw the car drive up a hill and guessed that they must have been heading north of the city. Sandor stopped the car at a parking lot and led her and Stranger inside a park. Sansa recognized the place immediately. The spot was famous for its panoramic view of the city and the city council had recently made it accessible by adding benches, water fountains, proper beds of grass and car parking zones near it. Sandor led them close to the edge, left Stranger with her and ran back to the car to retrieve something. He came back with the gym bag and blankets slung over his shoulder. He laid a cloth on the grass and then unleased Stranger, who immediately ran off to inspect the whole park. He sat down on the ground and gestured Sansa to sit between his legs.  
  
She placed herself in front of him and leaned back with a contended sigh. Sandor pulled the blanket and placed it on Sansa’s lap. He then dug around the bag and pulled out two thermos and handed her one and she sniffed the content and smiled when she realized that he had bought her tea. He took one for himself, presumably coffee.  
  
They sipped their beverage, a comfortable silence falling between them. Once in a while, she could feel Sandor run his hands up and down the length of her arms. Sometimes he would nuzzle the crook of her neck or press kisses on the nape of her neck. Mostly, he would just hold her, palm placed on her bump.  
  
Sansa closed her eyes and thought back to the day when she had knocked on his door to tell him of the impeding parenthood and he had thrown up after hearing the news.  
  
So much had changed since then.  
  
So much had changed in her.  
  
She had becoming more accepting of herself. She hadn’t thought such a thing needed to be done but she was proud of how far she had come as a person. She had begun accepting responsibility of her own decisions. She had begun focusing more on work. The session with the VA had been a hit and parents sang praises of her since the day and Mrs Tyrell was finally recognizing the potential that she brought to her work. It had surprised her when her idea had been passed to the schools of other cities that were affiliated to Highgarden Group of Schools and she had begun receiving emails from teachers in those schools asking for her advice. Even when on maternity leave, she still received occasional emails from work and it showed that she was being considered an integral part of the school system. Mrs Tyrell had hinted at making ‘better use’ of her potential when she came back to work and Sansa could only guess what that meant.  
  
Her relationship with her parents had improved. She was on good terms with her father and with her mother, it was a tenuous shift in dynamic. She wasn’t dependent on them financially or mentally and had full control to dictate the terms of her relationship with them. Her father and her met every once in two weeks to eat junk food and talk about their lives and her mother called her once in few days to ask about the progress of her pregnancy and give her tips. She never mentioned Sandor and Sansa knew it was too early to talk about it and most of the mother-daughter conversations remained focused on the baby. Which was fine with Sansa. She didn’t need her parent’s approval when it came to the relationship. Sansa was very content with where she was with Sandor.  
  
Every morning that she woke up next to him, tucked in his arms, she spent the first few minutes luxuriating in the newfound tenderness of their relationship. With them being on parental leave now, they spent the whole day together, mostly doing sappy, mundane, domestic stuff. The first few days into the leave, Sansa had to keep swatting away Sandor’s hands because he wouldn’t let her do anything on his own. He wouldn’t let her go on morning walks with him and Stranger, afraid that she would get unnecessarily exhausted. He would start banging on the doors of the washroom if she showered for too long, afraid that she might have slipped and fallen. He was afraid to let her bend over, squat, exercise or do anything that wouldn’t have her sleeping or sitting. He wouldn’t even let her cook, afraid she’d burn her hands. It was only when she had given him a good scolding that he had calmed down. Even now, sometimes, she would notice his breath hitching if she would move or do anything remotely unsafe and she would glare at him, daring him to stop her.  
  
She was starting to realize that was becoming very close to Sandor, emotionally. He was one of the very few people who had absolute trust in her ability to become her own person since the beginning. He supported her through everything. He never imposed his will on her and let her do as she thought was right, whether it be related to her career or the way that she chose to interact with her family. Having spent her whole life being dictated by people about what to do and how to do this and that, she loved having someone who gave her the space to grow and stood alongside her with whatever decision she took. He appreciated her at her worst, when she hung around the house with her hair looking like a bird’s nest clad in shorts and tank tops and at her best, when she wore makeup and spent hours dressing up. She had the full liberty of being herself around him. He could claim to be the most evil man out there but Sansa had begun to know him better than that and she had concluded that he sold himself short too often. He never fully implied how important he was in his office but three days of parental leave and people had begun showing up at the house, claiming to be unable to solve a problem for days which Sandor sat in their living room and resolved in half an hour. Her heart had threatened to burst when she realized he took full responsibility of Ray’s healthcare and took care of the two children who lived on his old property. He paid their school fees, bought them laptops, sent them to Disneyland and gave them money for each holiday around the year. He was a man with the heart of gold and the goodness in him was misunderstood by his tough exterior. Getting to know him had been a wonderful experience and each selfless act of his tugged at the strings of her heart and she found herself falling for the man.  
  
It was above all, his dedication towards her and the baby that had endeared the man to her heart. He had walked home one evening, when he was supposed to be grocery shopping, with a bag full of toys and clothes for the baby. Sansa had made his ears ring, chastising him for the exorbitant amount spent on the things and then had made up for it later with a rewarding blowjob. Even though Sansa and her mother had done most of the baby shopping, she had left few tasks that she wanted to do with Sandor. Watching him pink a soft yellow blanket with dogs printed on it for the baby and bringing it close to his chest briefly when he thought she wasn’t looking had melted her heart. Even though she hadn’t agreed, he had reserved a doctor with one of the leading gynaecological hospitals in the city for the birth. The private bed, the birthing suite and the extensive aftercare had resulted in a huge amount and despite Sansa’s protest, Sandor had signed the papers and given his health insurance card to the hospital staff. The man’s care for the child was evident in everything that he did and Sansa knew, without a doubt, that she couldn’t have asked for a better father for her child.  
  
“How about Arya?”  
  
His voice broke her out of her thought.  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
“How about Arya? For the baby?” he asked, thumb rubbing the surface of her stomach softly.  
  
“How about Eleanor?” she asked.  
  
When no response came, she looked up at him tentatively. He had deep furrowed brows.  
  
“I am honoured, Sansa. I truly am. But I can’t….I won’t be able to call her that without thinking about….”  
  
He seemed to be struggling with his words but Sansa understood what he meant. She placed her palm on his arms and rubbed soothingly.  
  
“It’s alright. I understand.” She whispered.  
  
Stranger seemed to be satisfied with his surrounding and trotted back to the couple. He placed himself next to Sansa and laid his head down on her belly, near their arm. He tended to do that a lot these days, be in the vicinity of the child. He was also extremely overprotective of Sansa now, just like his master. Sansa rubbed the silly beast’s head with her other hand.  
  
“How about a bit of both our sisters?”  
  
“Like….Aryanor?” he asked.  
  
“Or. Elya. How about Elya?”  
  
“Elya” he repeated, tasting the sound of the world on his tongue.  
  
“Elya Clegane.” She said, resolutely.  
  
“Yeah. I like that.” He said with a smile and bent down to kiss her.  
  
Her fingers curled over his placed on her belly as she sighed into the kiss and then…  
  
“Was that…. Was that….” He asked, head snapping towards her belly. Stranger lifted his head, alert at the sudden movement.  
  
“Yeah. I think she just kicked.” Sansa confirmed, grinning.  
  
“Oh.” She heard a wondrous whisper escape Sandor’s mouth.  
  
“My Elya. My precious child.” Sansa said, tears pooling in her eyes, the emotional vulnerability of pregnancy hitting her full force, making her bawl. Elya decided to kick again just then.  
  
“Sounds like she likes the name, little bird.” He said, between sniffles and Sansa realized she wasn’t the only emotional one here.  
  
Sansa turned around to nuzzle her face in the crook of his neck, the light stubble of his beard brushing her forehead. She felt, more than saw, his Adams apple bobbing.  
  
“Sansa?” he asked, in a low voice and she lifted her heard with a _hmm?_ and noticed that his eyes were shining and his face held a tone of fear and caution in it.  
  
“I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fic will wrap up in a few chapters. I have already planned out the ending and there will be no angst from now on. Just tooth rotting fluff. Writing this has been so much fun and all your comments make me so happy. I write a lot of academic papers but the language there is very different and stale and writing fluff like this has helped bring some emotion into the bland writing that I am so used to making. My academic background is also the reason why my chapters are sometimes too long. I am used to shitting my way through 5000 word essays and sometimes that spills over into informal writing and my background as a politics major only reinforces the need to over-explain everything (like I am doing right now lol). Anyway, please feel free to comment if you think that the word count is unnecessarily long and if you want me to shorten it or in general if there are any shortcomings with my style of writing. I have a lot of fics planned and criticism will help me improve my writing when I work on those. 
> 
> ps- Shireen Baratheon deserves the world and yes, I am making her the daughter of Davos because my girl deserves better than parents who neglect/hate/resent her. Her death was nothing short of brutal on the show and I will use my fic writing powers to give her a better life. 
> 
> Regardless of whether you celebrate Eid or not, I hope y'all have blessed days ahead and that all your wishes come true.  
> x


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two: Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domestic fluff and Sandor has an epiphany of sorts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the delay. I have been crazy busy. 
> 
> As you can see, I have another three chapters planned, including an epilogue (of sorts). Hope I can finish everything within this week. Fingers crossed.

“I love you.”  
  
The words spilled out of his mouth, as if on instinct.  
  
The date, the whole evening, the snuggling, the baby kicking, _Elya_ kicking, all of it lowered his guard and he found himself mumbling his heart’s secret to Sansa. Fuck.  
  
And she was gaping at him, like a fish out of water.  
  
Fuck. He’d ruined it. It was all going so well and he had ruined it. Stupid mutt.  
  
“I love you too.”  
  
He looked into her eyes as she said it and if it weren’t for the fact that she was immediately kissing him then, he would have thought that his mind had been playing tricks on him.  
  
As they drove home soon after, the entire ride was spent with heated touches and looks. Her hand was placed dangerously close to his crotch and Sandor dove for a kiss at every signal and only separated when cars behind them began honking wildly. They attacked each other in the elevator, Stranger backing off in the corner, decidedly traumatized by his masters face-licking. Carrying a woman and opening the door between making out was very hard and after several attempts of blindly jabbing the key at the door, it burst open and Sansa pushed the door shut behind his shoulder as he began carrying her to the bedroom, Stranger wandering off towards the kitchen. Clothes flew about, a trial of urgency behind them as they made their way to the bed. He kissed her, thoroughly, every inch of her, brought her to the brink of an orgasm with his kisses on her lips down below and then when he pushed into her, her back arching, her head lifted off the pillow, her mouth ajar, he looked at her in wonder and knew that he was _home_.  
  
…………………………..  
  
They settled into a quite domesticity after that.  
  
The last trimester of the pregnancy, as it turns out, was a complete snooze-fest.  
  
He got the occasional email from his office. He knew they wouldn’t burden him with work unless it was absolutely necessary and he was happy to help out from the confines of his home. Sansa too, had been getting calls and email from work and he was glad to see her career blooming. She was capable and level-headed and he knew that she would be taking on more responsibility in no time. He had faint memories of good teachers from his time in primary school and he knew what an important influence a kind and patient teacher could be and watching Sansa work reinforced his belief that she had to be one of them, at least for a few of her students.  
  
With not much to do during the two more months of their parental leave, they spent time in other people’s company.  
  
They spent a lot of time with Ray. He came over on most days and kept them company. Each time he came over, he bought more baby clothes and toys. With Sandor already hoarding them and Ray adding to the pile, they were running out of closet space for the baby. Sometimes Arya came over as well. While Ray brought tranquillity to his doorstep, Arya brought hell. When they told her they’d be naming her the godmother of the child, she whooped excitedly and hugged Sansa with zero disregard of her overgrown belly. Her plans for the baby included martial arts training and swordplay classes and the mischievous glint in her eyes scared Sandor. He wouldn’t be surprised if she kidnapped her niece just to be able to get away with her devilish ways with his daughter. As terrified as he was of Arya gifting knives to his daughter for her first birthday, he knew she would love her endlessly and would take good care of her, albeit in her own questionable ways.  
  
Sandor was surprised to find one day that Sansa’s brother had invited them over for lunch on a weekend. Talisa and Robb were good people, much like the rest of Sansa’s family. They were what Mother Stark would qualify as a worthy couple. Talisa was a doctor, already established in her field but still working hard. Robb was employed in the same company as his father’s and would take up the helm when Eddard Stark retired. They had dated for few years before tying the knot and were waiting for Talisa’s career to fully flourish before having any children. They were a good company and Sandor and Sansa spent the entire day at their house, beyond what they had originally planned. They held no judgement in their regard for their relationship and Talisa was almost motherly in the way that she was concerned about Sansa. Robb gave only the briefest of shovel talks to Sandor, warning him to never hurt his sister, not like Sandor planned on it anyway. It was almost comical in the way that the shorter, leaner man glared at him threateningly. Reflecting on it later, Sandor had deemed the young Stark couple as what would conventionally be called ‘relationship goals’, with them having successful jobs, a house in a good neighbourhood, a steady relationship and plans for the future. As he ran his hands through Sansa’s hair, relishing in the warm breath she occasionally blew on his chest where her head was cradled, he decided that even if their relationship started out a bit unconventional, unorthodox perhaps, he’d strive to give her everything she deserved. Stability. A future. A good relationship. And in time, perhaps marriage?  
  
Mother Stark too, was starting to open up to him, only by a sliver. She wanted to meet Sansa and he knew that driving to the Stark home would be troublesome so he offered for her to come over. To give the women some time of their own, Sandor chose to spend time with his colleagues while the mother and daughter reunited. He left for the bar before Catelyn came over and returned only once Sansa texted him that she had left. He knew Mother Stark and Sansa were just starting to become cordial with each other and he didn’t want to do something that would jeopardize their relationship. They met a few more times and each time Sandor would find somewhere else to be. On one such instance, he took Arya to an underground boxing match and he was pretty sure that since then, he had become her favourite person. One time however, Ned and Mother Stark came over with Bran and Rickon and asked Sansa _and_ Sandor to spend time with them. Between talking about business with Sansa’s father and entertaining her brothers, he didn’t interact much with the mother hen. Not that he was complaining. Ned was very smart and knew how the market worked. The man knew many officials in the North and his contacts would someday come to Sandor’s aid and talking to someone who had over three decades of experience in the market was almost educational. Rickon had apparently heard of the underground match Arya ad he went to and demanded that he be invited any such adventures in the future. The boy was usually subdued but Sandor realized that once he found someone to talk to, he was brimming with energy. It was disconcerting but also adorable, in a way. Bran was quieter. He sat and patiently heard what his father and Sandor were discussing and surprisingly, had quite a lot of good inputs. Sandor was sure he’d make a good negotiator or diplomat one day. The boy would sit and listen to the men talking, his chin propped on his palm and a finger brushing his jaw and then he would speak, a sentence or two, at most, but they’d be impactful. In all, it was a good way to spend a Saturday and by the time her parents left in the evening, Eddard Stark had gained Sandor’s respect and the boys and Sandor has somehow become – friends? – perhaps. The only time Mother Stark and he interacted were when the family huddled in the elevator and as the doors closed, he caught a faint smile on the woman’s face, directed towards him.  
  
_Huh._  
  
_Alright then._  
  
………………………………..  
  
“You listen to me loud and clear, little one. If a boy tries to come near you, you punch him. Okay? Hard. In the jaw, thumbs out. And then go for the crotch. And then come and tell your papa. Maybe get the boy’s social security number too, while you’re at it. Your papa could do some long-lasting damage with such information.”  
  
He was talking to the giant belly that was now encompassing most of Sansa’s lap. She was lying down on the bed, reading a book on parenting and he had propped his chin on his palm, pillows pulled closer to the belly so that he could talk to Elya.  
  
When Sansa told him babies could hear through the belly, he called bs.  
  
But then he’d seen her talk to the baby, about trivial things like importance of education, ballet routines, favourite actors, tips on how to take care of Stranger and other inane stuff and he’d figured he get a head start on teaching Elya some important things about life.  
“And never let anyone bully you. If anyone comes close to hitting you, hit them back. Don’t take shit from anyone. Never back down. And don’t worry about your school calling me. If you were defending yourself, I’d stand with you even if the other fucker had a broken jaw. In which case, I’d be very proud of you.”  
  
The hand that was running through his hair slapped his ear.  
  
“Ow!” he exclaimed.  
  
“Stop telling her violent things, Sandor.” Sansa chastised.  
  
“She needs to learn, okay? I won’t have boys sniffing around my girl.”  
  
Sansa closed the book she was reading and give him an indulgent smile.  
  
“And what if she’s not interested in boys, hmm?”  
  
Sandor gave it some thought.  
  
While men were decidedly assholes in most heterosexual relationships, it’s not as if all women were angels too. But compared to a teenage boyfriend, a teenage girlfriend would be less concerning for Sandor.  
  
“Still applies. No one touches my daughter. Penis or not.” He declared.  
  
Sansa snorted at him and pushed his hands off her belly.  
  
“Move. I gotta pee.” She said, struggling to get off the bed.  
  
He watched her wiggle around. He knew if he tried to help, she’d snap. So he let her be.  
  
“You just went to pee a minute ago.” He sighed.  
  
“Your daughter thinks my bladder is a squeeze toy. Blame her!” she declared, getting off the bed and waddling towards the washroom mumbling something about big men and big babies and big problems.  
  
Sandor turned and laughed at the ceiling.  
  
“Love you too, Little Bird.”  
  
His response was a snort and the sound of peeing from the en suite.  
  
…………………………….  
  
He didn’t know whether he should tell her about it.  
  
It was Eleanor’s birthday. She would have been 37 today.  
  
He didn’t want to do much. Maybe buy some flowers and leave it at her grave. But he didn’t know if Sansa wanted to be a part of it.  
  
He had been dreading the day since a week, counting down to it, wondering if he should involve Sansa in it. As the day finally fell on him, he was still indecisive.  
  
“-not sure what it should be.”  
  
Sansa’s voice floated through and he realized she’d been talking to him.  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
“Did you hear a word of what I just said?”  
  
Sandor sighed, rubbing his hand over his face.  
  
“Sorry, Little Bird. Headache.” He lied and placed his fingers on his forehead to make it seem realistic. She shifted closer to him on the couch and lifted a hand to his face, tipping his chin towards her.  
  
“What is on your mind, Sandor? You seem distracted.”  
  
Sandor breathed out heavily. Maybe he should tell her.  
  
“It’s El’s birthday. I usually visit her.”  
  
“Okay.” She said. “So let’s go.”  
  
His gaze snapped towards her.  
  
“You want to come?” he asked, surprised.  
  
“Of course, Sandor.” She said, getting up. “We have so much to tell her. She needs to know the name. She needs to know we are living together. Let’s get her flowers, yeah?” she was moving towards their room and Sandor followed her numbly, watching as she moved to the closet to pull out a sundress.  
  
“You- you want to come with?” he asked, still in disbelief.  
  
He thought she wouldn’t come. That she wouldn’t be interested.  
  
“Of course, babe. It’s your sister.” She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.  
  
He supposed it was. She loved him and she told him every day but sometimes it overwhelmed him how truly she meant it in everything she did for him. He simply nodded his head, swallowed the lump in throat and moved to change into better clothes.  
  
Forty minutes later, they were pulling into the side of the property, a simple bouquet of lilies and gladiolus tucked in the crook of Sansa’s arms. As they made their way to the tree, Sansa laced her finger with his. She passed him the bouquet and he placed it at the base of the tree.  
  
Sansa pulled herself away from, moving closer to the bark. Her hand went out and her palm cradled the side of the tree, almost as thought was actually holding El.  
  
“We are naming her after you. Elya Moira Clegane. I wish you could be with us. I hope you’ll look after her from above.” She said in the sincerest of whispers.  
  
Sandor stared at the woman before him.  
  
Usually when he came here, especially on this day, it always ended with him crying and grieving for his sister. For what could have been. For a better childhood. For a better himself.  
  
But as he stood there then, he missed his sister but the woman in front of him made him forget the past. She made him want to live for the future. For what could be. For him being a father. A better man. A supportive partner. And maybe someday, more.  
  
She didn’t take away his pain.  
  
He still hated his brother, his father. He still missed El and his mother. Nothing could make up for the horrendous first two decades of his life.  
She gave him something to live for.  
  
He had so much to look forward to now.  
  
Eleanor didn’t have to watch her brother crying and mourning. She would bear witness to an exciting new beginning in his life.  
  
And it was all because of Sansa Stark.  
  
He fought to keep his emotions in check, the tirade of realization hitting him in the guts. He lost the battle and tears slipped out of his eyes as he realized how much he loved the women in front of him.  
  
The next week when he bought the ring, a blue sapphire attempting to emulate the pools of blue he often found himself being lost in, he knew he would do everything in his control to never lose the one good thing that came into his life after decades of misery.  
  
The velvet box sat in the corner of his closet, waiting for a time when they’d be more stable.  
  
Now they had a baby to look forward to and soon a toddler to chase and look after.  
  
Sandor Clegane wasn’t a religious man, never having set foot in a sept after his fifth year, but he prayed to all the Gods that when he asked, she say yes.  
  
He didn’t know what he’d do without her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moira means destiny/fate. I think it suits because Elya wasn't planned in the least but she was destined to happen and is the reason they fell in love.


	23. Chapter Twenty-Three: Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The birth!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't pretend to claim all of the medical stuff in this chapter are correct. I read through few labour experiences and used them to the best of my ability and in case there is any mistake, I am so sorry.

They were having a family lunch when her water broke.  
  
Sansa had been restless throughout the week. She was getting increasingly more irritated with everything around her. When the kettle took a little too long to heat up the water, she wanted to chuck it out of the balcony. When the soft comfy slippers she wore around the house couldn’t accommodate her bloated feet, she sat and cried for hours. Even the smallest of inconvenience set her emotions on fire. And poor Sandor. He fell into the problem too. Sometimes she wanted to smack him for breathing too loud and other times, she would refuse to get up from his lap because she wanted to be in his arms forever.  
  
She knew she wasn’t being rational and her outburst were unwanted but she was pregnant, damn it. She had a life growing in her, a Clegane sized life. She deserved some break.  
  
She had probably read three dozen books on pregnancy and child care, combined with the extensive information her mother provided her. She had caught up on all the shows and movies she wanted to watch and Netflix probably never had a user as active as her. But she was still so damn bored. She couldn’t even go out. She was positively humongous. Going out was such a task with her bloated figure. She had to find something that could fit her ginormous belly and everywhere she went, she would have to be in the vicinity of a washroom because she was practically urinating like she had an entire ocean in her bladder.  
  
It was all just too irritating and she wanted it to be over.  
  
_Why did she ever want a child?_  
  
Why didn’t anyone talk about what a difficult task pregnancy was?  
  
Sansa groaned to the pillow for the thousandth time.  
  
“Want something, Little Bird?” Sandor asked from the kitchen.  
  
Stupid big man. Stupid big man with stupid sperm that gave her a baby. Why didn’t he get to experience all this pain too?  
  
“Want this baby out of me.” She mumbled into the pillow.  
  
“Can’t help you with that, sorry.” He chuckled lightly as he placed himself on the couch next to hers.  
  
Did he think she was in the mood for jest?  
  
She lifted her head to glare daggers at him. He noticed her glaring and folded into the couch with a grimace.  
  
_Good._  
  
“Uh, want to have Arya come over today?” he asked tentatively.  
  
Sansa sighed heavily. Having Arya over would be nice. She came over a few days ago and told her about some boy she was dating. Was it Gary? Gerdy? It had to be something along the lines. Regardless, Sansa had fun with her sister the entire afternoon.  
  
“Yeah sure. That would be nice.”  
  
She saw as Sandor fished his phone out of his pocket to text her sister. Stranger, meanwhile, made his way over to her and curled up near the couch and placed his head on her belly. He was strangely attached to the baby already and Sansa loved it. Her gallery was full of Stranger sleeping or curling up next to her midsection. She brushed her fingers through his head and contemplated on what she wanted to do today.  
  
Maybe she could invite more people. That would be nice. Having her family over would be great and she could meet them all before her due date. It wasn’t until mid of next week and she knew once the baby came, she wouldn’t have time for other people. Having people over now could possibly be the one chance she could spend some quality time with her family before a baby took over all her attention and time.  
  
“Sandor. Do you mind if I invite more people. Like, mother, dad, Rickon, Bran, everyone?”  
  
“Sure.” He said and then continued after a while. “Can I invite Ray too?”  
  
“Of course.” Sansa said, stretching to get her phone from the table. She sent a text on the family group and asked them all come over.  
  
She was just about to send a text to Arya to bring her some kimchi when pain flared at the base of her spine. Sansa grimaced at the sensation curled herself around her belly, massaging her back to lessen the pain.  
  
“You alright?” she heard Sandor rasp beside her.  
  
“One of those stupid Braxton Hicks contractions. Can you please give me the hot water bag?” she asked, her eyes still pinched together in pain. She heard Sandor scuffle about and soon the bag was placed where Sansa’s finger held her back. Sandor coaxed her to lie down and placed a warm duvet on her.  
  
“Water?” he asked, knowing the routine of these pains by now.  
  
“Chipped ice, please.” She groaned in pain.  
  
Soon a glass was placed next to her and Sansa reached out and greedily chewed on the pieces of ice. She sighed when the warmth of the bag began seeping through her muscles and handed the glass to Sandor, who was still squatting beside her.  
  
“I think I’m going to nap. They’ll be here by 11.” She mumbled and fell asleep after she heard Sandor whisper his acknowledgement and place a kiss on her cheek.  
  
When she woke up later, it was to the gentle touch of her mother’s hand on her forehead. She opened her eyes and found that her family was already here and had assembled themselves in groups around the apartment. Her mother was seated next to her, a chair pulled up beside the arm of the couch she was laying on, running her hands through her hair mid conversation with Talisa. Robb, Sandor and her father were on the kitchen counter, whispering animatedly about their work. Ray, Arya, Bran and Rick were huddled together, listening with rapt attention to the older man’s war tales. Stranger was running around frantically, getting as many pats as possible from different human beings. Sansa sighed in contentment, surrounded by her family and closed her eyes. Her back was still paining and she did not want to get up just yet. They were all talking in low voices, probably to help her rest. She could smell the sweet scent of home-made food in the apartment. Sansa knew the smell very well. It was ever present in the house she grew up in.  
  
“Mama?” she mumbled in a sleepy voice, calling her mother out by a name she rarely used now.  
  
“Hey honey.” Her mother said with a gentle smile, turning towards her. “I bought food for everyone. Want some?”  
  
She nodded her assent and Talisa and her mother began walking towards the kitchen. Her mother fixed her a plate of stir fried veggies and baked chicken and bought it for her to the couch while Talisa asked everyone to help themselves to lunch. Soon, the living room was filled with people, some sitting on chairs, some couches and the youngest of the lot on the plush carpet on the floor. Even stranger was served his lunch besides everyone. Sandor was a little stiff as he sat beside her but with time, his posture relaxed and soon, he was contributing to the conversation and joined Robb as he began making fun of Arya.  
  
Sansa smiled at their quips and got up to dispose her plate in the sink and waddled to the washroom to wash her hand.  
  
She had just reached out for a towel to dry her hands when water gushed out from between her legs and stained the pajamas she wore.  
  
She gasped and looked up at her reflection in the mirror.  
  
_Fuckety fuck._  
  
“S-S-Sandor! SANDOR!” she yelled through her stammering and in a minute, he was standing by the door, gaping at her, her father shortly behind him.  
  
He stood there staring at her before snapping out of the daze. He turned to her father behind her.  
  
“Call the ambulance. NOW!”  
  
Robb, who has just entered the room scrambled to find his phone and soon could be heard speaking into his phone.  
  
“We have a bag ready. I will go with her. Meet us at Baelor Medical. The room is booked in my name. They will show you to the waiting room.” Sandor said to everyone gathered in the room as he walked around picking up the bag and Sansa’s pillow from the bed.  
  
Her mother made a beeline towards her and helped her sit at the edge of the bathtub.  
  
“My-my back was paining since the morning. I didn’t think- Didn’t – Oh my God. It’s happening.” She stammered.  
  
How was she going to do this?  
  
_Oh no._  
  
“Shh. Shh. It’s okay, baby. Breathe. _Breathe_ ” her mother reminded, rubbing a hand across Sansa’s back.  
  
In. Out. In. Out.  
  
She could do this.  
  
Right.  
  
_Right?_  
  
She felt hands cradle her face. Big, warm palms cupped her cheeks and calloused fingers touched the edge of her hairline. She opened her eyes to the grey stormy skies of Sandor’s.  
  
“I’m so scared, Sandor.” She confessed, in a whisper.  
  
A stab of pain shot across her lower back and she bit her lip to muffle her cries, her eyes already leaking.  
  
“Hey. Hey! You can do this. You’re the strongest person I know.” He said gently.  
  
“Dispatch is a minute away.” She heard Robb speak from the edge of the bathroom.  
  
“Everyone clear out! Robb, take the kids to the hospital. Dad, can you drive the rest of us there? Sandor, you need to take her downstairs. Mother, you should go with Dad. Dispatch only allows two people in the ambulance. I will be there with them. Everyone, move out of the washroom. You all are crowding her! And someone please clean up the apartment. This is going to take a while.”  
  
She heard several footsteps move around, clearly obeying Talisa’s command. The woman moved towards her, asking her to breathe, noting down the timings of the contractions on her phone.  
  
Sandor lifted her up, bridal style and passed her bag and pillow to Talisa, when led them to the elevator. Sansa buried her face in Sandor’s neck and closed her eyes all the way downstairs. They were just out of the door when an ambulance pulled up outside their building and the paramedics began ushering her on a stretcher. She felt Sandor gently drop her on the stretcher and they immediately reached out to each other, clasping their hands together.  
  
Soon she was being placed into a wheelchair and guided into a room where the nurse helped her sit on the bed. A doctor came and spoke to Talisa and asked Sansa how she was feeling.  
  
“Like death.” She groaned.  
  
Her doctor smiled gently.  
  
“My name is Dr. Myra Banks. This is probably going to take a while, Sansa. Why don’t you change into something more comfortable?” she spoke in a voice that sounded positively angelic. “We can draw a hot bath for you, if you like. It’ll help with the pain a little. You need to be prepared for a very long labour.”  
  
Sansa nodded along and when the doctor left, the nurse guided her to the washroom. Sandor helped her sit in the tub and filled it with water and then helped her change once she was done. When she was done, her mother was already in the room, arranging the pillows on the bed.  
  
“Here, Sansa. You should lay down.”  
  
“Where is everyone else?” she asked as Sandor arranged the pillows to help her recline comfortably.  
  
“We came just now. Your father and Ray are in the waiting room next to this. Robb and the kids will clean up and join us soon.” Her mother said, patting her head gently. “You should rest, sweetie.”  
  
She turned to look at Sandor. “Can you lie down with me?” she asked him, not wanting to be alone now.  
  
He nodded and arranged himself beside her. Sansa placed her head on his chest and curled around him the best she could.  
  
Her mother squeezed Sandor’s shoulder before leaving the room.  
  
“I am scared, Sandor.”  
  
“It’s going to be fine, Sansa. You have the best of the doctors here. Your entire family is here. I am here. Nothing will happen to you.” She heard his voice rumble through his chest.  
  
She lifted her head to look up at him.  
  
“I love you.”  
  
“Love you too, Little Bird.” He said and kissed her hair.  
  
They laid down for a while. Each time pain flared through her body, she clutched Sandor tighter and he shushed her gently, noting down the time of the contractions on his phone. The doctor and nurses would come in occasionally and check up on her. Sometimes her mother or father would walk in and spend some time with them before leaving them alone. They switched positions several times and Sansa took another hot water shower in between. As the contractions began becoming closer, she restricted her movements and sat on the bed with Sandor beside her. After fifteen excruciating hours, the doctor declared Sansa to be ready and took her to the birthing suite. Sandor changed into scrubs while the doctors set up all the equipment around her.  
  
“Do you want me to get your mother, Sansa?” he asked and she nodded.  
  
A nurse walked out and came back with her mother in tow, who was tying the last strings of the scrub. Soon she had Sandor sitting behind her and her mother on her left, holding her hand.  
  
After two painful hours of pushing and almost coming on the verge of killing Sandor for making her pregnant, the cries of an infant erupted in the room.  
  
A nurse moved beside her to untie the strings of her scrubs and exposed the top of her chest from her neck down to her cleavage and the doctor came around and placed her baby in her arms, near the warmth of her mother’s heart.  
  
The baby took huge lungful breaths and screamed her displeasure to the world and it was the sweetest sound Sansa had ever heard.  
  
“Oh my baby.” Sansa cried and clutched her daughter closer to her chest as Sandor tightened his arms around her. They basked in the cocoon of familial love as Elya’s cries subsided and reduced to gentle squabbling. Sansa and Sandor played with her toes, cooing at her, the room disappearing around them. The centre of their universe was in their hand. Their Elya Moira Clegane.  
  
Sansa handed the baby to the nurse with reluctance as a paediatrician walked in to examine the newborn. Sansa delivered the placenta and the nurses began cleaning her up and helped her change after taking her to the room.  
  
Comfortable in soft pajamas and reclining on her bed, she sat with Sandor beside her and watched as the nurse brought her baby to them.  
  
“There you go.” The nurse said, placing the bundle in her arms.  
  
She was a vision.  
  
Absolute perfection.  
  
Scrunched up nose, a cute little nose huffing out breath, thin, pink lips with a beautiful bow, a thatch of dark her on her head. Sansa pulled her daughter close to her chest and kissed her forehead.  
  
A doctor walked in and guided her through the first breastfeeding. After a few minute of trying, her daughter finally latched on and Sansa reclined in the solid warmth of Sandor’s chest behind her. She hummed in happiness and turned her face to kiss Sandor’s jawline. His fingers, meanwhile, ventured to the baby, tracing her hair, so like his own. He touched her nose, her little crease lines, her ear and when his hand moved to the palm, Elya reached out and clasped his ring finger lightly in her palms. The teeny tiny pink fingers were a stark contrast to the calloused tanned fingers of his and Sansa felt his shoulders shake behind her and knew that he was just as lost in love for his little girl as she was. She sighed and closed her eyes, catching up the sleep she had lost through the night.  
  
When she woke up, she was arranged around Sandor in such a way that one of his arms were free and he was cradling Elya against his other side.  
  
“Hey.” She whispered.  
  
He smiled down at her and then looked back at Elya.  
  
“Should we introduce her to everyone?” he asked. Sansa smiled and nodded and Sandor passed the baby to her and gently moved out of the bed and arranged the pillows for her comfort and then called everyone in. Eight people soon walked into the room and Sandor gently lifted Elya and passed her to Ray who then passed her to her Father and then her mother and on and on. Sansa smiled as her father broke down after holding his first grandchild in his arms and Arya kicked Bran when she asked her to _“pass the baby already!”_ None of the people in the room were left stoic after holding the baby and even little Rickon agreed that she was the sweetest baby he had ever seen. Several of the adults, including Ray were sniffing and tearing up. After a while, they all began filtering out. Her mother kissed her and Elya’s forehead and clasped Sandor’s hand and whispered her thanks to him. Her father shocked her even more by hugging Sandor tightly. Ray left at last.  
  
“I will take Stranger to mine until you get back. Let me know when you want me to bring him over.” He said to Sandor and moved towards Sansa. He bent low and kissed Sansa on her forehead.  
  
“I never thought I’d have a child, much less such precious ones. And now I am a grandpa.” He spoke through tears, his eyes fixated on Elya sleeping in Sansa’s arms. “You have given me so much happiness today, my dear. I can’t wait to watch you grow up.” He gave a parting smile to Sansa and hugged Sandor and left.  
  
Alone in the room, the parents laid down together, Elya placed between them, all cosy in the too small hospital bed. Sansa held Elya’s right hand in hers while Sandor placed his palm over her belly.  
  
She looked up from her baby to its father.  
  
He looked so peaceful, head propped on his elbow. He had the sweetest smile on his face as he looked at his daughter. She had seen him in the throes of passion, in concentration as he worked on his laptop, in pain as he spoke about his past, in regret as he spoke about his sister and in love as he looked at her. But he had never seen him so content, so happy, so deeply in love.  
  
She looked down at her baby. She was splayed on the bed, her limbs sprawled and her mouth slack in sleep. Her tummy rose and fell as she breathed.  
  
She was the centre of their existence.  
  
The reason they came together and fell in love.  
  
She didn’t know it yet, but she had changed so many lives around her.  
  
Such a little soul. Such big bearing.  
  
Sansa placed her head on the pillow, her arms folded underneath her.  
  
“She’s perfect, isn’t she?”  
  
She asked, already knowing the answer.  
  
“She is everything.” Sandor whispered in awe.  
  
Sansa smiled and hummed in approval.  
  
She _was_ perfect.  
  
_Their little miracle of Fate._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two epilogues and then we are done. 
> 
> The next one is may fav, y'all. I can't wait to post it. Argh!


	24. Epilogue 1: Stranger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Few things to understand before you read this chapter. 
> 
> a. It had been theorized that a dog's intelligence is roughly the same as a two year old child. Which means that they only understand about 200 words. Stranger, thus, doesn't speak human tongue as well as we do.  
> b. Even a few hours seem like years in doggy terms so understand his impatience towards the end  
> c. He has his own nickname for people and in case you don't understand them, feel free to ask and I will clarify in the comments. 
> 
>  
> 
> Hope y'all like it

Stranger was confused.  
  
One moment, there were so many people in the house and he ran around like crazy trying to get as many belly rubs as possible and the next minute. everyone was moving out. A while later, his Master's friend, the Old Man came and took him away. He didn't know what to make of it. He wanted to go home. He wanted to go back to Lemon Scented Lady. She had a pup in her belly that Stranger had to protect. The pup needed someone to keep them warm and clean and if Stranger wasn't there to help, who could possibly do such an important job? He kept asking the Old Man about the whereabouts of his Master, his mate and his pup but Old Man did not speak Dog and only patted his head everytime Stranger tried speaking to him. He gave up at some point and decided to lay down by the door and wait for his Master.  
  
After what seemed like months, the Old Man took him in the window wagon and bought him home.  
  
The familiar smell of the place filled Stranger's nose and he began wagging his tail enthusiastically.  
  
The metal cage opened and Stranger ran to his home and began screaming for his Master to open the door. He heard footsteps behind the door and the smell of his Master and lifelong friend began wafting through the door.  
  
Pines. Musk. Sweat. Hormones. And, was that.....human poop? His Master smelt a little different and it was hard to say what exactly it was.  
  
The latch turned and Stranger bolted even before the door opened the whole way. He jumped on his Master, throwing him on the floor and licked him everywhere. He smelt a little different but for most part, it was the same smell. The smell of _home_.  
  
He heard his Master give him commands to "slow down" and Stranger knew it meant that he would have to sit back. He moved away from his Master but ran around the room. Where was the Lemon Scented Lady? He had to lie down on her belly and keep it warm. He had to stay nearby and protect her and the pup. He could smell her around but there was something else in the air and he kept getting confused.  
  
He heard his Master call him from behind.  
  
"Boy...smell." he caught the two words and saw the tiny piece of clothing in the man's hand and understood that he must have wanted Stranger to take a sniff of it.  
  
He trotted forward and sniffed the cloth.  
  
It smelt like.... Lemon Scented Lady.... and his Master.... and chemicals.... and something else entirely.  
  
_PUP?_.  
  
Stranger jumped back at his Master, begging him to reveal where the pup was.  
  
His master put his leash on him and Stranger sat patiently, waiting to meet the Pup.  
  
His Master led him to his room and kept a tight hold on him.  
  
Stranger entered and saw the Lady sitting on the bed with something in her arm.  
  
_PUP!_  
  
His Master led him to the side of the bed the Lady was seated on and said something and Stranger caught the word "gentle".  
  
A small head was peeking out from a bundle of layers. The head had a small patch of dark hair. The face was small and scrunched up and Stranger felt fear creep up in his mind. The Human Pup was so small, so delicate. Dog Pups were smaller, he knew. But they grew fast. Human Pups took ages to grow. He remembers when he was a pup, defenseless and scared, trapped in a cage with several other dogs. He has faint memories of those days before he met the Funny Faced Man who later became his Master. This Pup in the bed was just as small and defenseless as Stranger had been at some point and the fear in his body was replaced by protectiveness.  
  
His Master protected him back then, gave him a home.  
  
Now, Stranger would protect the Pup.  
  
He would be his care.  
  
The pup was now his Charge.  
  
.................  
His Charge didn't need much looking after, as it turns out.  
  
It barely left its Parent's arms. It couldn't walk or move on its own. It had to be carried everywhere. His Charge was loud and noisy, almost always crying. And for someone that small, it pooped a lot. All around the house. Even Stranger knew house was a No Poop Zone and he was only allowed to Poop outside. His Charge didn't seem to have been taught such manners. That however, didn't mean that Stranger took his responsibilities any lightly. No one was allowed to touch or come near his Charge or the Lemon Scented Lady. He would growl and bare his teeth at them till they backed out or till his Master asked Stranger to Stay Down. Even when his Charge slept in that little bed of theirs. Stranger stood around and made sure it was safe. He refused to sleep anywhere but near his Charge.  
  
When his Charge learnt how to walk, it was thrilling but it soon became tiring. It ran around the house, little feet scampering away from it's parents and it was left for Stranger to locate it. It was all so much fun for Stranger. He had a partner in crime now, one who passed him meat under the table and snuck him extra treats. As his charge grew, it became more apparent that it was a girl.  
  
She loved running around. She ran when her mother tried feeding her or when her father tried taking her for a bath. She would only take a bath if Stranger were there with her. He hated the bubbles but she loved splashing around in the tub and he bore it with goodwill for her. She loved crawling under blankets with him and soon, he abandoned his long standing bed to be her sleep buddy. Every night, she would jab her thumb in her mouth and hug him close.  
  
She began calling him "Wangeh" and he accepted the moniker of his wonderful name. He tried teaching her all he knew about survival. He tried to teach her how to dig holes in the playground and catch squirrels and fend from other dogs, especially the smaller, pesky ones and how to absolutely stay the fuck away from any feline creature. His Charge didn't seem to learn much from him and it was not because of his incompetence but rather because his student was slightly stunted.  
  
Regardless, she was his favourite person and he spent every hour of his waking days with her. She loved sleeping on his stomach and Stranger took to guarding her during those naps. She loved playing with his tail and if it were anyone else, he would snap and chew that person's hands off but it was her, so he let it slide. When she began going away for long hours, he stood vigilant by the door, waiting for her to come back. Each time, he would greet her with enthusiastic kisses and tell her how much he missed her.  
  
Soon, another Charge followed and his former Charge became Favourite Human and the latter became his New Charge.  
  
They shifted houses and Stranger loved the new one much more. It had a park in the back and the front. It had more space to run and play and while Favourite Human began spending more time away from home, he took care of his New Charge. He was a seasoned parent now, having successfully raised one already and knew how to handle another just fine on his own. He knew the Human Pups didn't like the same things as Dog Pups so he stuck to main duties of security and ensuring safety of life. In time, his responsibilities grew to playmate. The New Charge was much calmer than Favourite Human. He liked playing but he much preferred to being inside the house. Favourite Human would still sometimes take him running and playing outside.  
  
New Charge too began growing soon, leaving home for hours at end.  
  
Stranger began spending his days by the door, lying down and waiting until he heard engine of the big ugly window wagons outside.  
  
He became lonelier day by day, his charges and his masters spending too much time away. Occasionally, they would all stay home and those would be the best days for Stranger. They would run around the house and the mistress would ring their ears for staining her floors with their muddy footprints but all the hours playing was worth it. Most days when his charges were home, they would sit on tables, doing something on Illuminated and Paper Books. He would still be with them, lying down on their feet while they worked.  
  
He still missed the days when he would run outside with his Favourite Human. He wanted to see his charges grow more but by the time his New Charge began growing steady on his feet, Stranger knew his time was nearing. Might as well, since his legs weren't so capable now.  
  
Stranger was growing old. He knew that without a doubt.  
  
But he knew he had lived a full life and he had no regrets about it. When he met his Master, he was a sad, lonely man. His only company was Stranger and the Old Man who smelled like biscuits and trees. Sometimes his Master would come home smelling funny with a woman with him. In the beginning, he would get excited to meet these women but soon he understood that they were here only for a few hours and would leave and never come back. He had accepted it that way until one of them did come back. And she smelt different too. Stranger knew what it meant instantly. She had a pup in her. The woman he began calling Lemon Scented Lady soon became Mistress and she gave him a best friend and later another. He saw his first Charge go from a boring lump of flesh to an excited baby to a miniature human. His New Charge was just the same. He went from being a baby to a small human now.  
  
And when Stranger's breath became shorter and heavier, he knew it was time to go.  
  
He looked around him as he lay down on the bed that smelt like chemicals. He hated the smell. It reminded him of the time a Bad Man cut his parts off. He hated being here but he looked at the people around him and somehow it became bearable. His favourite human was crying, clutching his paws and whispering "good boy" into his fur repeatedly. He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, how much he loved her. How she was his best friend. That he forgave her for not being able to pee near the bushes like him. He wanted to tell her so much but when he tried speaking, nothing came beyond a wheeze. His gaze shifted to his New Charge and though he knew he wouldn't be there to look after him for long, he felt better that the boy had Favourite Human to look after him. She had learnt from the best, after all.  
  
His eyes kept shutting and he would force them open.  
  
He wanted to spend more time with his family.  
  
He opened his eyes blearily and Master was now the only one sitting in front of him. He could hear his Charges and Mistress crying outside. He wanted to console them.  
  
His Master ran a hand through his back, speaking to him softly, in a croaked voice, words muffled by tears.  
  
He caught "love" and "miss" in whatever his Master was saying.  
  
He looked at his Master, trying to convey what his mouth couldn't.  
  
_Take good care of them. I will miss you._  
  
"You were a good boy. The best out there" he heard his Master say.  
  
_So were you_ Stranger wanted to say.  
  
But then the darkness overcame him.  
  
And he succumbed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for the delay in uploading the chapters. Work is hectic. I am halfway done with the last chapter and I will try my best to upload it tomorrow. It will be a lot fluffier than this.


	25. Epilogue 2: Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All is well that ends well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this while at work. I am an awful employee. 
> 
> Sandor Clegane: 39  
> Sansa Clegane 31  
> Elya Moira Clegane: 5  
> Aiden Jon Clegane: 8 months old

He sat with his legs crossed on the rug, the toddler placed on his lap, Stranger snoring by the fireplace.  
  
He pointed to the picture in front of him.  
  
"This is your Nana and that's your mama. Can you say mama, baby? MA-MA. Can you say it? Not too hard, aye?"  
  
The baby bounced on his lap and slapped his pudgy fingers on the album page. The picture was of Sansa and her mother from the wedding day, Sansa resplendent in the white gown of her and her mother in a lilac  
  
Sandor flipped the page and the next one was of the Stark brood, all the children decked in suits, including Arya. The only odd was one was the bride standing in the center. The siblings had their arms around each other, spotting wide grins and joyous faces. Jon and Robb standing on the either side of the bride while the little ones crouched on the floor.  
  
"That's your uncle Jon, Robb, Rickon and Bran and the little devil there is Arya. You don't need to remember their names just yet but do you see the pretty lady in the middle? The one who looks like the Maiden herself was envious of her beauty that day? That, yes that one right there. Look at you, being all smarty pants." he smoothed the red curls on the boy's head when he leaned forward to smack his mother's image on the picture. "Can you say mama? Not too hard. Two syllables. Ma and Ma. Come on. Say it"  
  
"Gugu-bwah"  
  
Sandor sighed. "Not quite that."  
  
Sandor turned the boy gently on his lap such that he sat sideways. He soothed the baby by rubbing his fat little belly.  
  
"Say 'mama'"  
  
"Pah?" the baby asked and produced a mouthful of drool. Sandor wiped his mouth with his bib, giving up on the impossible task.  
  
All he wanted was for Aiden to say 'mama'.  
  
It was Sansa's birthday in a month and to have the baby say his mother's name before anything else would be a really nice gift. But Aiden was adamant. He was not going to speak any coherent words anytime soon. Elya's first word had been "Way" and it took them a while to understood that she meant ‘Ray’. The Brother looked after her when Sansa and Sandor went back to work and somewhere in between the eight hours she spent with him. the Elder Brother became her favourite person and his name was a constant chant around the house. Her second word had been "no" and the third "Pup" and "mama" only came after. Sandor wished his first child would have called her mother before her dog.  
  
But it was all good. He had a second chance now. Maybe Aiden didn't say "mama" yet but if Sandor kept doing word association and kept repeating "mama", his dumb child would pick up on it soon.  
  
"PAPA!" a voice screeched from the door and he turned to the door a fraction of a second before his daughter ran towards him and pounced on his back, planting kisses loudly all over his burnt cheek.  
  
"Papa papa papa! I missed you so much. School is soooooo bowing and I want to stay home with you" his daughter screeched in his ear.  
  
Sandor smiled indulgently. Elya was worse than her half-namesake when it came to being still and quiet. Much like her maternal aunt, she hated being held down and confined to a class. Her teachers always complained that she tried sneaking out to the playground all the time.  
  
"Education is important, El" he reminded her.  
  
"But I hate it papa." she whined.  
  
"Don't say that. You will hurt your mother's feelings." He chuckled at Sansa, who was taking off her coat by the door. His wife (he loved saying that word. _Wife._ ) still taught students but she was also now the head of the East Division of Highgarden School's Primary wing. The teacher rolled her eyes at her daughter's antics.  
  
"Whatchu doing, Papa?" she asked, peering over his shoulder to the album laid out in front.  
  
"Showing pictures to your brother."  
  
"Oooooooh. Can I show him?"  
  
"Sure." He lifted his son in one arm and daughter in another and took them to the dining table, Stranger placing himself on the seat beside Elya. The eight-seater dining table was his favourite in this new house. It was useful for the several meals they shared with Arya and Ray but when the Stark clan came over occasionally, it was still too small. The mahogany table complimented the rustic setting of the entire house and the fireplace nearby kept them warm in the winter days. He placed Aiden on the table and seated Elya on the chair with her cushion it. He jogged back to the living room and got the album and placed it in front of her daughter.  
  
He moved to the kitchen to start preparing for dinner. He knew Sansa must have gone upstairs to change and he took his time to cut things needed for Taco Tuesdays. He kept an eye on the table in front of him and made sure Aiden wasn't crawling too close to the edge.  
  
Sansa came into the kitchen not long after and moved beside him after placing a tender kiss on his cheeks. She overtook cutting the meat as Sandor began working on the salsa.  
  
“And that is mama and Auntie Ayya and me. See my pretty dress, Aidy? I looked so pretty, yeah?” She said and looked at her brother for approval and he only giggled so that must have been good. “And look that’s Stwangeh and me under the Red Tree. He looked so funny with his doggie suit on. Didn’t you, puppy?” she asked, scratching the dog behind his ears. She laughed when he licked her hand and moved back to the album. “Oooooooh look. That is papa and Pops. Don’t they look handsome? They’re my favvvvvvowite people.” She said with an axxagerated show of her hands hugging her chest while Aiden just kept babbling at her monologue.  
  
"It's almost as if I didn't even give birth to her." Sansa muttered beside him. Sandor chuckled at her.  
  
His daughter was a daddy’s girl through and through but it was partially because Sansa was always the one in charge of discipline while he was the one giving her leeway.  
  
Sansa assembled the empty taco shells and the ingredients on the table while Sandor hauled his daughter on his back to take her up for a change. He helped her out of her clothes and changed her into soft yellow pajamas with strawberries drawn on them. She kept talking about her school and her friend Stacy and Noor throughout the whole process and Sandor didn't much listen to her other than saying "of course, baby" and "yes, baby" occasionally.  
  
When he walked back downstairs, Aiden was perched on his high chair and Sandor arranged Elya on her seat and wrapped a cloth around her chest. His daughter was a messy eater and there was only so much food stains they could get out of her clothes.  
  
Sandor helped Elya with her tacos while Sansa placed mushed bananas in front of Aiden, not that he'd eat it much but at least he would be busy with it for a while until Sansa finished her dinner and took him upstairs to feed him in peace in the nursery. Aiden seemed reluctant to be entertained with the mushy goo and began reaching out to Sansa. When she didn't take him in her lap, he reached out towards Sandor, his finger making grabbing motions towards his father. Sandor tried shushing him from his place on the table but the boy was adamant about getting out of the contraption. He began leaning too far and if it weren't for the suctioned legs of the chairs or the high bars, Sandor would have been scared that Aiden would tip over any moment.  
  
His fingers reached out pitifully and he began whining low in his throat.  
  
"Pa-pa." He said, face scrunching in displeasure.  
  
The taco in his hand dropped halfway into his mouth on the plate and Sandor felt happy but at the same time sad, that it wasn't 'mama' instead.  
  
"Papa" the toddler insisted.  
  
"He called you, papa. He can talk!" Elya declared the already obvious to the whole room.  
  
"Fuck" he whispered and heard Sansa clap frantically beside him.  
  
She jumped out of her chair and picked Aiden up, kissing the boy all over his face. "Who's the smart boy? Who's my smart boy! Look at my smart boy!" she cooed between kisses.  
  
“I was hoping he would say ‘mama’ first” Sandor said with a pout.  
  
“And I was training him to say ‘papa’” Sansa said, bouncing the baby in her arms.  
  
"You have? For how long?" he asked, perplexed.  
  
"For two months now." She said triumphantly.  
  
"But I taught him too! I used pictures!"  
  
"Come now, Sandor. If there's anything I am good at, its teaching." she grinned and placed a loud kiss on Aiden's cheek that sent the boy screeching with joy.  
  
Sandor huffed, accepting the situation. She was good at teaching, after all. He had to acquiesce. Besides, his son called him 'papa'. He spent a few minutes bouncing his son his lap, blowing raspberries on his tummy that sent the boy screeching with laughter. He entertained the kid while Sansa finished eating and once she was done, he handed her the baby and she walked around the room with Aiden in her arms. Sansa bounced Aiden around the room, praising him and showering him with kisses and Sandor helped Elya finish the last few bites of her food. He then carried her upstairs to put her to bed for a nap while Sansa carried Aiden to the nursery to feed him. He tucked Elya in her little car bed and settled the covers around her.  
  
"Stwangeh" she called and the dog came trotting from wherever he was. He climbed the bed and settled down next to her and Sandor tucked them in the blanket and sat down on the edge of the bed. He brushed her hair from her face and caressed her cheeks.  
  
"Papa?"  
  
"Hmm, baby?"  
  
"I really like mama's ring, papa"  
  
Sandor smiled at her. "You do?"  
  
"It is so shiny and pretty. When can I get one? Do I have to marry a boy for a ring?"  
  
"Boy? No! Your papa will give you as many rings as you want, okay? No boys!" he said, tickling her stomach and Elya began giggling and trying to move his hands.  
  
"Stop papa, stop. No boys, I promise." she said between giggles.  
  
"You remember that now, girl. Okay? Papa gives you a ring. No other boys." he said, seriously.  
  
Elya gave it some thought and her brows scrunched up. She looked just like her mother when she was deep in thought. She buried half her face into Stranger's head and turned to him sheepishly.  
  
"But papa, people give rings when they love each other. That's why you gave mama a ring and mawied her. Because you love her."  
  
"Well then, baby, that is no problem at all. Because I love you too. More than anything in the world."  
  
"You do?" she asked with a blush. "I love you papa. You're my favowite."  
  
"You're my favourite too" he said and placed a tender kiss on her forehead. He moved to get up. "Now go to sleep or no rings for you."  
  
Elya dutifully buried her face into the pillow and closed her eyes and opened one to peek at her father.  
  
"Come down when you wake up, okay?"  
  
"Yes papa"  
  
"Love you, baby." he said and pulled the door behind him, leaving it a little ajar. He walked to Aiden's nursery and saw Sansa sitting on the rocking chair, humming and feeding the baby.  
  
Sandor went near them and realized that Aiden had fallen asleep, mouth slack around his mother's nipple.  
  
"Can you?" Sansa asked and Sandor began taking the baby in his arms, bundling him up and taking him to his crib. He placed his son down gently and lifted the blanket around the child. He stood with his hands on the crib and looked at the baby sleeping within. Sansa made cute babies, he'd give her all the credit for it. Elya was beautiful with his raven hair and her blue eyes and Aiden was all his mama with red curls and blue eyes. Even as a baby, he was a complete heartthrob. Aiden was a very calm child, never too fussy and only got riled up if he wasn’t in his parent’s arm. Aiden could spend hours in his mother's arm without a fuss. He looked at everything with a scrunch in his eyebrows and with concern, so much like Jon. Elya had been a little hellion, all scream and wail, constantly up to mischief. But they were the apple of his eyes and he would bring the moon down from the night sky if they wished so.  
  
Sansa came beside him and Sandor lifted his right arm instinctively and his wife tucked herself beside him, her right hand coming up to his chest, the platinum wedding band and the solitaire ring shining in the dim light of the room.  
  
“They’re perfect, aren’t they?”  
  
"They take after their mother." he said and smiled at her. She looked up at him, love and devotion shining in her eyes and rose on the balls of her feet to kiss him.  
  
“You give me too much credit” she said with a smile.  
  
“I give you all the credit, my darling wife” he said and ducked down to kiss the spot on her cheek where the blush rose.  
  
_Wife!_  
  
What a novelty.  
  
A wife. A daughter. A son.  
  
A family.  
  
If only the five-year-old child hiding in his wardrobe from his brother, clutching his sister’s hand, knew where he would be three decades later, he could perhaps spend his days with a little respite knowing that it would get better. Eventually, anyway.  
  
But then, maybe it was all a part of the journey.  
  
He bent to kiss his wife’s hair; her attention drawn to the baby’s sleeping form.  
  
Yeah. Things did get better.  


**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aiden means 'born of fire' and its a nod to the fact that Sandor has accepted his childhood and though the pain of it will live with him, he has now made peace with everything that has happened. Part of this is because he knows he can't change the past and also that he is glad to be where he is, as is evident. 
> 
> A huge amount of gratitude to anyone and everyone who read the chapters and left comments and kudos. I was writing an Arranged Marriage AU when this idea came up and even those I was four chapters into that story, I posted this first. I know the writing skill is very rudimentary and I promise, I will do better in forthcoming stories. I am sorry if I haven't replied to any queries in the comments but all comments in the last chapter will be acknowledged. x 
> 
>  
> 
> I have started working on the next story and it will be up when I had enough chapters mapped out already.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment. Criticisms are welcome and will only help me improve. 
> 
> Find me on tumblr moonshinevelynme-shee
> 
> Love,  
> Shee x


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